


In the Long Run

by steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeb



Series: What the Deaf Man Heard [2]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics)
Genre: A series of one-shots, Deaf Clint Barton, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-03-06 18:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3144191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeb/pseuds/steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year after the events of "What the Deaf Man Heard," Barney and Simone, Clint's neighbor, are now more than just the apartment's well-known secret.  These are just a few moments in Barney's life as he works on being more than just "Uncle Barney."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Halftime

The clock was ticking towards zero.

There was not enough time left to make it down the hallway and Barney couldn't see any other option.

"Throw it against the wall! Bank it!" Barney pointed at a spot down the hallway along the left wall that provided enough of an angle to bounce and hit the target. Kate called out the countdown as it crawled towards zero, her fingers tapping against the stopwatch. "Throw it as hard as you can!"

Barney continued rolling down the hallway even after the clock ran down and the shot hit its target. He threw his hands in the air in celebration and made a U-turn before reaching the door. Kate blew into a small plastic whistle. "Halftime!"

Tito retrieved the squishy nerf ball from the laundry basket on the floor, tossing it to Kate. "What's the score?"

Kate looked at the small notebook in her hand and scribbled some notes. "With that shot we have...Team TrickShot at 24 and Team Hawkeye at 20." Barney held his hand up for Jeremiah, Simone's younger son sitting on his lap, to slap his palm. Down the hallway Clint, with André sitting on his lap in the old hospital wheelchair, asked for the scores once again. Barney signed the numbers when Kate failed to remember how to sign them herself. 

"Face it, little brother, basketball just isn't your game," Barney jeered, signing at the same time. "We own this game, don't we, 'Miah?" Jeremiah bobbed his fist up and down in agreement, not even attempting to show any sort of humility with his widely-spaced new teeth. Clint waved them both off with dismissal. 

"You freaking invented this game. And besides, André and I can come back in the second half, you just watch."

"Excuse me," Barney grinned back. "Wheelchair basketball has been around for years, I just made a few modifications for us to be able to play."

Over the course of the year, around the time Barney was released form the hospital after new Years, Barney began developing his own form of wheelchair basketball after he played with André's hoop hanging from the door. He kept most of the rules of actual wheelchair basketball but changed what he could so they could play in the hallway. Some rules he borrowed from other sports, such as frisbee golf. Instead of actual hoops, they used laundry baskets. Since there were only two wheelchairs to use, any neighbors who played were allowed to take only two steps in any direction and could then only pivot in place. The wall could be used to bank shots but not to pass, and an out-of-bounds only happened if the ball went beyond one of the laundry baskets. At halftime they also switched wheelchairs, similar to the way teams switched baskets in regular basketball. The only ones allowed to shoot were André and Jeremiah, and when one of the boys had a foul shot they were set up either three or six feet from the basket with respect to their ages. Barney even wrote out a rulebook. 

Right now Barney and Jeremiah had Aimee on their team, while Clint and Jeremiah had Tito for the time being. Usually whenever they played the neighbors would switch out depending on their schedule, and Tito was already subbing for Zeke. Aimee's girlfriend promised to take over in the second half so Aimee could go back upstairs and read for class. Barney didn't care who played; the boys had fun playing and it was something to do rather than being stuck inside all day due to the cold. André was also currently on break, and since Jeremiah was finally out of diapers he could stay home with Barney during the day rather than go to daycare. Not having to pay for someone to take care of Jeremiah also saved Simone some money. For the first time since the little guy was born she had enough money at the end of the month to do something fun with the boys.

Barney rolled up next to Clint and unbuckled the belt he used to keep Jeremiah in place so they could switch chairs. Going on 18 months of intensive physical therapy, Barney was slowly gaining strength in his trunk and legs. When he used the metallic braces that stabilized his feet, knees, and hips, as well as the forearm crutches, he was able to walk up and down the hallway a few times without being winded too badly. He still did his exercises religiously and only missed a physical therapy appointment when he was in the hospital last year. He could now rock his legs back and forth, a major improvement compared to a year ago.

In addition to improving physically, he also finally defined his relationship with Simone a few months ago. They were officially official, even though the rest of the apartment already knew. The boys still called him "Uncle Barney" and "Uncle Baba," but André knew his mom was seeing Barney. Whether or not Jeremiah understood they had no clue, but the little boy loved waking up in the morning and seeing Uncle Baba curled up next to mommy in her bed. He often climbed up into the bed and snuggled between the two until they were ready to wake up and start the day.

Clint was also seemingly out of the funk that kept him bedridden for weeks after the night on the roof. He still had moments that Barney feared he would slip back into the depression, but instead of weeks Clint whined for maybe two days or so. Compared to being unable to walk down the steps to use the bathroom, Barney could take a few days of bitching. A few changes around the apartment made communication much easier, not only between the two but with the rest of the tenants as well. Stark helped install the doorbell system that flashed lights throughout the apartment whenever someone was at the door; a week later after Barney bitched hard enough about being woken up frequently, Stark programmed the doorbell so they could specify which room to flash the lights. Stark also forced Clint to carry a cellphone with an autocorrect that made Clint's texts somewhat legible.

With the belt undone and the brakes locked, Barney scoot himself to the front of the chair and grabbed Clint's hand. "Ready, Bub? One, two, three, up," Clint mumbled, tugging until Barney stood at his full height. Six months ago Barney could shuffle from side to side or front to back like a rook in chess, but now he was able to twist at various angles somewhat. The width of his gait increased, and he could now lift his leg half a foot off the ground without manually picking it up. Stretching them out without standing up was still difficult, but he was regaining muscle in his calfs and that was important. He shuffled over to the other chair and dropped himself into it, putting his feet on the rests that stuck out in front of the seat. Barney hated the old chair.

Jeremiah stood next to the chair and held his arms up. "Jeremiah's try? Uncle Baba, Jeremiah's turn?"

"Yeah, bud, come on up," Barney patted his lap and helped the little boy climb his way up the new chair. Even though Clint was in the newer chair, because André was much taller than Jeremiah they had difficulty coordinating where to put their feet. "Ready for the second half, little bro?"

Clint held his hand up in the universal 'one minute' gesture, digging into his pocket for the cellphone. A text came in from Simone a moment ago asking about going to the grocery store. "Hey Barn, Simone wants to go to the grocery store when she gets home."

"That's fine, not like we are doing anything later anyway." Clint sent the return message with as few words as he could possibly send ('ok we can') then lined up down the hallway to start the second half of the game. "Alright, baby bro, let's do it."


	2. Shopping

Trudging through a grocery store, or any store besides a pet store for that matter, was Clint's least favorite activity in existence. Barney used to be able to manage it when he could walk through a store, get in and get out, but now he needed someone to help him retrieve things off the top shelves which made the trip take far longer. Since Simone had to wrangle two boys while shopping, her trips always took forever. When they discovered that bringing Clint and Barney along to occupy the kids while Simone filled up the cart for both units made the trip take less time for all involved, going to the store every other week became a regular event. 

The one thing that annoyed all three adults was the stares. Barney could understand why kids stared or pointed, they didn't know any better, but he always glowered at other adults who stared. Now that they brought the kids and Barney was focused on keeping Jeremiah occupied, he ignored most other people. If Clint noticed that people stared or whispered, he never made any indication that he did so. Clint's job was keeping André in line, and for the most part the little boy spent much of their trip asking how to sign various objects or helping push the cart. André liked feeling included; maybe that was why he and Clint were close. 

"Do you boys need milk?" Simon stood a few feet in front of Barney, tugging open the door to the milk cooler. Upon hearing the word 'milk' Jeremiah squeezed his fist open and shut a few times, signing the word. He usually signed the words that he knew whenever he heard them, although most of the words he could sign revolved around food or things that he wanted. Simone smiled at her baby boy and tickled his chin. 

"Probably," Barney responded. Jeremiah squeezed behind his mom and grabbed a gallon of milk, hoisting it up to his chest. "There you go, bud, use those muscles." He handed the gallon to Clint, who signed _grab another one_ back. André turned around and pulled a second jug from the cooler. 

Simone scratched the item off her list and mumbled to herself as to what was next. "Clint, do you need dog food?" Clint was so focused on trying to pick out some type of juice he didn't hear her. She waved her hand in front of his face to grab his attention. "Hey, do you need to get food for Lucky?"

"Uhh-"

"Yes, he does. There's not even a fifth of the bag left," Barney answered for him.

Jeremiah wriggled around until he could see Barney's face. "Uncle Baba, Lucky toys here?"

Clint signed for Barney to repeat what the little boy just said. "He wanted to know if there are dog toys here. When we get over to the pet aisle we can look for a toy for Lucky. That work for you, little man?"

"Jeremiah pick Lucky toys?"

"Yeah, you can pick out a toy for Lucky. André, you can pick the treats since you're strong enough to carry the box. What's next on the list?"

Simone ran her finger down the list, trying to coordinate the list with their location in the store. "Let's see...yogurt, butter, eggs, all that jazz. It should all be in the same aisle." 

"Oh, yeah, I know where that is. Follow me, boys," Barney pointed in the direction he was headed and pushed himself, the boys chasing behind him. Since he was so small, Jeremiah's version of a run looked more like a waddle. Clint stayed behind with Simone and helped her tug the rapidly-filling cart. 

They took their time since the boys were in safe hands with Barney. Simone wrapped her hands around Clint's elbow and nudged his shoulder with her own. "Are you alright, honey? You've been quiet all day."

Clint nodded even though his face still looked somewhat panicked. "Stores are overwhelming, it's hard to keep track of where sounds come from when it's so busy. Everything just runs together, it all sounds like a giant roar." Simone rubbed his arm a few times and kept walking, resting her head against his shoulder. They'd been neighbors since around the time Simone became pregnant with Jeremiah and they both felt relatively close. As close as Clint could be as a SHIELD agent, at least. He could remember the day Jeremiah's dad left around the time Clint could tell she was pregnant, he remembered waiting with her for the cab to come and take her to the hospital when she went into labor, and he was there three days later to hold open the door when she brought the little guy home. They'd been friends ever since.

The idea of them dating never crossed either of their minds and they never really considered doing so. Clint had women in and out of his apartment, but Simone was one of the few constants in his life. She checked in on him whenever he was in a slump, and he protected her from just about every creep in New York. One afternoon when Clint came back to the apartment Simone was standing outside holding the baby and some random guy obviously could not take the hint that she was not interested. Clint came up behind her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, kissing her temple and calling her every pet name he knew until the guy believed they were dating and left. 

Clint was still unsure how to feel in regards to Simone dating Barney. In some ways he was very happy that she had someone to be with, but Clint also knew Barney much more than she did and there were things in their lives that Simone probably did not know about. He didn't know if Simone was aware that Clint had killed Barney once upon a time, accidentally, or that Barney tried to kill Clint multiple times. She got an idea of how violent Barney could be around a year ago when Barney beat Clint's face in to the point he nearly bit his tongue in half and nearly drowned in his own blood. Apart from that, the worst Simone had seen of Barney were a few grouchy days.

They caught up with the other three just as the pile of yogurt cups in Barney's lap threatened to fall to the floor. The boys were going back and forth to the cooler and grabbing whatever yogurt cup they could reach, then running back to Barney to place the cup in the growing pile. Simone caught André before he could run back to the cooler. "Okay, okay, _terminan._ You guys are going to bury Baba in yogurt." Clint brought the cart next to Barney's chair and helped put the yogurt in the cart. "André DeShawn, _vayas allí y obtengas la mantequilla._

"Yes, ma'am," he called behind his shoulder, dashing off down the aisle to pick up a tub of butter. Jeremiah stayed behind; he was having fun tossing yogurt cups from Barney's lap into the cart, holding onto the mesh and standing on his toes to reach over the top. André ran back as the last cup plopped into the cart. "Mama, can we pick out the cereal this time?"

"You can, but I have to approve it." Simone played with Barney's bangs for a moment while she considered the next item on the list. "Oh, baby, we need to backtrack, I forgot to grab pull-ups." Even though Jeremiah was officially out of diapers he still had the occasional accident at night. Clint was still getting used to Simone calling Barney any sort of pet name; apart from "Bubby" the only other nicknames Barney had were "fucking bastard" and "little shit" curtesy of their father. As they walked along André squeezed his way under Clint's arms and stood on the horizontal bar beneath the cart's handle, pointing ahead as if he were on a pirate ship. Jeremiah sat in Barney's lap once again. 

In the toddler aisle, Simone plucked Jeremiah from Barney's lap and held him up to a row of multicolored packages containing his favorite snack in the world. "Which one do you want, baby? Banana or strawberry?"

Jeremiah stretched out his hand for the pink package of freeze-dried yogurt drops. "Staw-blery." Barney laughed at the way he pronounced the word, and Clint nudged him to repeat what he said.

 _He was trying to say 'strawberry' and it sounded like 'staw-blery,'_ Barney signed. Clint grunted loudly in what passed as his version of a laugh these days, prompting people near them to turn and look in their direction. _Hey, fix your hearing aid, it's almost hanging off your ear._

Clint reached up to both his ears, feeling for which purple hearing aid he was talking about. The left aid was sitting at an awkward angle over the apex of his ear. _Thanks, Bub. By the way, guess who I ran into the other day up at the SHIELD base. Eleanor._

_Agent Waitress?_

_Yeah, she got bumped up a new clearance level. She looks like she's doing well._ A year ago when Clint frequented a small diner about a mile from the apartment, Eleanor Brady worked undercover as a waitress in order to keep eyes on two criminals SHIELD was tracking at the time. Since Clint shot arrows through both of the criminals throats she had no reason to work there and Clint had not seen her since. A new clearance level meant she would now be able to coordinate field missions. They didn't talk much, Clint had an appointment in the medical wing and Coulson already threatened to drag him there sedated if he had to, but she did mention that her goal was to become a handler. Good for her.

Simone walked back out of the aisle carrying Jeremiah in one arm (who was trying to rip open his yogurt pouch) and a pack of pull-ups in the other. She dropped the package into the cart and deposited Jeremiah on Barney's lap once again, bending low to give Barney a quick kiss. He reached up and ran his finger along her chin until Jeremiah's laugh interrupted them. "Jeremiah's try! Mommy Uncle Baba kiss Jeremiah!" A few weeks ago Simone and Barney kissed Jeremiah's cheeks at the same time and ever since whenever he saw the two kiss he wanted a 'squish' as well. They tried to do the same to André but he usually squirmed and giggled until Barney tickled him instead.

"You're very brave for what you do."

A new voice interrupted the group, and the adults all turned towards the source. An older woman with her coat folded up in her arms stood next to Simone, lightly touching her elbow. Simone's eyebrows furrowed. "Excuse me?"

"For working with the handicapped. I'm sure with two little boys it must be difficult to take care of the crippled. Is this your job? I hope it pays well."

Barney's face went from mild confusion to pure anger in less than a second. Clint nabbed Jeremiah and held him in his arms in case Barney exploded at the old lady. His jaw was set and Barney's knuckles were white against the rim of his wheels. "Hey, screw you, lady." He barked, causing the woman to jump back in alarm. "This is _my_ family; she doesn't 'take care' of us. You can back the fuck away from _my_ family and _my_ boys, right now." André covered his mouth in shock at hearing Barney say a bad word. The old woman's mouth hung open as she scrambled for something to say in response. Eventually she mumbled some excuse and walked briskly away. The group stood in silence until Jeremiah's small voice broke the tension.

" _Fuht._ "

Simone's head snapped around to her baby boy and bit her lip, trying her hardest not to laugh. "What'd you say, baby?"

"Fuht! Fuht, Uncle Baba!" When the adults in turn grinned and Barney rubbed at the stubble on his chin to stifle his own laugh, Jeremiah's smile widened in pride. Clearly whatever the word "fuck" meant was amusing and Mommy and Uncle Baba and Uncle Quit liked hearing it. "Fuht! Fuht!"

When Barney was openly laughing to the point that tears formed at the edges of his eyes, he nudged the cart forward a foot and unlocked his brakes. "Little Man, you are somethin' else. I think we've got everything anyway, now let's just get the fuht out of here."


	3. Physical Speech

Of all the various doctors that SHIELD employed, a speech-language pathologist was the last one Barney would have guessed. Since Clint often found an enormous range of excuses for avoiding anything attached to the word "appointment," Coulson asked Barney's permission to transfer his physical therapist over to SHIELD. And because Clint usually went with Barney to his appointments, if the appointments were at the SHIELD base then Clint would go as well. In addition, if Clint went to his appointment then he got an hour of range time. Barney had to admit, Coulson was a sneaky fucker like that.

Because Clint helped Barney with his exercises at home, usually about an hour or ninety minutes a day, Barney decided that he would do the same to make sure Clint stayed on top of his speech. Since the night on the roof Clint spoke less and less each day to the point that his speech became almost lazy and people had difficulty understanding him at times. In order to keep his job at SHIELD and be able to go on missions once again, his speech needed to be cleared by a pathologist. Knowing that working for SHIELD gave Clint some kind of purpose in life, Barney vowed to make him go to every appointment if he had to tie him to the back of his wheelchair and drag him.

Because injuries were frequent, SHIELD took care of its injured agents if the injury was debilitating. How Coulson managed to sneak Barney in he would never be able to guess. Luckily he did not need any sort of clearance level beyond that of a secretary to get into the medical wing that contained the various therapies. Agents were stationed around the place and there were security checks at just about every other door in case the place went on lockdown for whatever reason. 

In the waiting area of the speech therapist's office, Barney flipped through the newspaper until he found the daily crossword puzzle to work on during the appointment. After Clint was finished they would head to the physical therapy gym and Clint would most likely go to the range for an hour. As he scribbled in letters, Clint filled out paperwork.

"Hey, Barn," Clint stopped him. "What's 'dice arthur-ary'?"

Barney scrunched his face in confusion. "The fuck are you talking about?"

Clint flipped the clipboard around and pointed to a list of medical conditions, most of which Barney had never seen in his life. "It says 'dysarthria.' And I have no idea. Ask the doc when you see her." Clint shrugged his shoulders and stood to hand the clipboard back to the receptionist, who began punching in the information into a computer. A few moments later the adjacent door opened and a tall, dark-headed woman with glasses poked her head out.

"Agent Barton?" Barney slapped his knee with the newspaper when he did not respond and pointed in her direction. "Come on back, gentlemen. Both of you can come back if you'd like. I'm Doctor Davis; how are you doing today?"

Doctor Davis closed the door once Barney's wheels cleared. Compared to the multitude of doctors Clint had seen in his career with SHIELD, her office was perhaps the most bare he'd seen. He shrugged his shoulders and stood until she gestured towards a chair for him to sit. "I'm okay, I guess. Not entirely sure why I'm supposed to be here."

She sat down in a rolling chair on the opposite side of a thin table. "Welp, according to Agent Coulson there was some concern about others' ability to understand you over comms so what we're going to do today is run a few tests that might seem a little ridiculous, then we will do just a few easy exercises that you can work on at home. And your...."

"Brother."

"Your brother can help you with them."

Clint drummed his fingers across the table. "How often do I have to be here?"

"Depending on how well you do and if you keep up with the exercises, maybe once a month. That sound reasonable?"

"No."

"Why not?" Doctor Davis crossed her legs and nodded somewhat, genuinely interested in his response.

"Not a whole lot of anything sounds reasonable to me at all," Clint grinned, earning him a whack on the back of his head from Barney's newspaper. Doctor Davis giggled and scribbled some information on a sheet containing dozens of small boxes. She then pulled a book with a built-in stand and large rings from underneath the desk and set it up between them.

After flipping through parts of the book, she stopped at a page and pointed at it. "Agent Coulson said you put the 'sass' in assassin, you know. Anyway, would you mind reading that sentence out loud for me and answering the question, Agent Barton?"

Clint looked at the sentence for a moment; it was simple, just a few words long, but in Clint's brain some of the letters were far apart or weren't lined up properly. "Will a rock drink the water? No?" That seemed obvious enough. Doctor Davis furrowed her eyebrows and looked up from her paperwork at the book.

"Are you sure that's what it says?"

He looked at the sentence once again, going through each word individually. "Will. A. Rock...oh, _sink_ in water? In that case, yeah." Doctor Davis nodded and continued taking notes, then flipped the page of the booklet. The next sentence was shorter but only by a word or two. "Does a Hummer cut wood? Nope. Are all of the questions this stupid?"

Davis looked at her side of the book once again, then back down at her charts. Barney stopped his crossword for a moment and chewed at the end of his ballpoint pen. "Did Coulson tell you he's dyslexic?" She flipped to the very last page of her packet of charts and perused a legal-sized sheet of lined paper, Coulson's tight scribbles trailing across it. Doctor Davis' eyebrows shot up when she saw the note she was looking for.

"He did, actually, but I must have overlooked it. Alright, Agent Barton, let's switch tactics." Davis flipped through the book once again, stopping at nearly the end. "All you have to do is name some objects; they're basic every-day household objects, nothing complicated. I just want to hear how you pronounce them." She laid the book flat and flipped to the first page.

As Clint named the pictures, Barney tried to pick up what she was listening for. A few pictures in and he began to notice the incompleteness of Clint's words. " _Cad, dog, bet, sishors, deck, window, share, blankt..._ " As Barney watched her flip each page, he became somewhat disheartened. Cat, dog, bed, scissors, desk, window, chair, blanket. He didn't realize just how lazy Clint's speech became over the year. 

When the pages ran out, she pointed to her own mouth and ran through a list of words she had memorized. Being able to see her face helped Clint's articulation somewhat, although as the words became increasingly difficult he stumbled over them more often. That exercise ended in only two minutes.

"You're doing just fine, Agent Barton. Now usually I have people read a paragraph for me but instead of that I'm going to let you pick something you have memorized. Do you know any songs or speeches or movie lines that you could recite for me?"

He had to think about it. In all honesty he could probably give her the entire script to a few movies if she wanted them. "I know some stuff from _Rio Bravo._ Does that work?"

"Sure, that's just fine. However, what I want you to do is say it as fast as you possibly can, and I'm going to record it so I can listen to it later. Ready?"

Clint nodded and took a deep breath. " _You're not as smart as your brother, Joe. He sees Stumpy sitting in here and realizes that if his men try to come in here to get you, you're going to get accidentally shot. If any trouble starts around this jail, before anybody can get to you you're gonna get accidentally shot._ " 

"Great! All there was to that one." Davis set the book under the table once again and pulled out a single sheet of paper full of squares with sentences. "Alright, Agent Barton, last thing we're going to do today. Between now and when I see you next week I want you to just practice a few of these sentences each day to work on the _S_ sound. Repeat after me: _Russ wants Max to pass his class._ "

"Rust want Mack to pass hit clash." Doctor Davis reached out her hand in request to hold Clint's for a moment. She made a continuous _sss_ sound and placed his hand in front of her mouth so he could feel the air, then on her throat to feel the absence of a vibration. Afterward she moved his hand back to his own mouth and repeated the sentence, telling him to over enunciate. "Russ wantsss Max to passs hiss classs."

"Perfect! See? I don't torture you like the rest of medical. Now next week we will work on some different sounds but between now and then just practice the ones on this sheet, just make sure you can feel the _S_ on your hand. And I'll let Agent Coulson know you were here, fair enough?"

Clint nodded and stood, reaching across the desk to shake her hand. "Thanks, doc."

"No problem, gentlemen. See you next week?"

Barney tucked the newspaper behind his back to finish later. Since they did not regularly receive the newspaper he typically kept whichever ones he could find and worked on them during downtime. "I'll knock him out and drag him here if I have to, doc."

Clint nudged one of Barney's wheels so that he would bop into the doorframe. They each shook hands with the doctor in turn and moseyed out into the hallway. After the door closed, Clint tapped Barney's shoulder. _That wasn't too bad._

_Nah, you got this, Little Bro. Alright, show me where I'm supposed to go so you can go play in your sandbox with the other babies._

_I'll show you to the roof and let you roll of it, how about that?_ Clint smirked at his big brother and pointed down the hallway at the direction of the physical therapy gyms. In his jeans and bright purple hoodie, he definitely stood out against the militaristic black uniforms of the surrounding agents. Barney looked somewhat more presentable, at least. If anything he showered this morning.

They walked across the compound rather slowly since they still had a few minutes before Barney's appointment. Clint stopped and grabbed some coffee along the way (straight black coffee, he honestly did not like the fancy coffees Kate drank) and when they arrived at the other half of the medical wing he flashed his SHIELD badge to unlock the door. Two checkpoints later and he left Barney at the physio gym. 

_Have fun with the sadists, Bubby._

_Fuck off,_ Barney snorted, pushing Clint back out of the gym. _Alright, come back and avenge me in like an hour._


	4. Man to Little Man

The bus was running late today.

Typically André's bus arrived somewhere between 4:15 and 4:30, depending on traffic, but with the cold weather and slick roads the bus ran later than usual. Cold weather meant bundling the kids up in heavy coats which made the process of loading and unloading the kids longer than usual. At least this time Barney remembered to bring Clint's thick blue jacket. 

He sat at the curb with his hands tucked into the sleeves and inside the front pockets. Inside the apartment Clint watched Jeremiah for a few minutes until André came home, then Barney would start the process of making dinner while the boys either played or worked on homework. Most days Clint sat outside in the hallway with Lucky so the boys could run out all their pent-up energy by tossing chew toys down the hall or chasing after Lucky, at least until dinner was ready or Simone came home. Since that routine started, Clint gained much of his weight back and seemed to be in a better mood after eating properly.

As the large yellow bus rounded the corner and slowed in front of Barney, the cacophony of children's voices blasted from the door when it scrunched open. André hopped off the bottom step as soon as he could clear the door and ran up the front steps of the apartment without so much as a word. Barney shrugged and waved as the bus driver closed the door and fought against New York traffic once again. Usually Barney used the two minutes that it took to roll to the back of the apartment and flatten out the ramp to catch up with André about his day or ask him about his homework. But not today apparently. 

He rolled up the ramp and into the main hallway, greeted by Lucky sniffing at his wheels and Jeremiah following behind with a squeaky toy and trying to get the dog's attention. "Lucky! Lucky doggy! Look, Lucky toys. Hey, look."

Clint stood as soon as the door closed. _What's wrong with André?_

_No idea, I'm gonna go talk to him. Watch Miah for a bit._

Inside Simone's apartment, Barney called for André. Apart from the noise of traffic outside the window, the apartment was dead silent. Barney checked behind the couch, the bathroom, Simone's room, and all the closets, calling André's name as he went. In the boys' room as he closed the closet door he heard a quiet sniffle from the top bunk.

"Hey, bud, what's going on?" From a seated position Barney couldn't see the top bunk, at least not the back corner near the wall. "What's wrong, bud?"

After about a minute without noise, shuffling occurred and André peeked over the side of the bunk. His red eyes and shiny cheeks betrayed the tears he tried to hide. Barney waved him down and patted Jeremiah's bed at the bottom so André could lay down again if he wanted but Barney could still see him. Once seated, Barney rolled forward and nudged André's leg with his own. "So what's going on, little man?"

André sniffled and wiped his eyes with the back of his shirt sleeve. "Kevin was picking on me."

"Is Kevin someone at school?"

"Yeah, but he's in a different grade. He rides the bus, though." André pulled his knees up to his chest, entwining his fingers. "He said something mean about you and mommy."

Barney scratched at the stubble forming at his chin. "What'd he say?"

Light from the main living area reflected the tears in André's large brown eyes. "He said you couldn't marry mommy and be our step-daddy because we're the wrong color." 

They sat quietly for a moment, Barney gathering his thoughts and André wiping tears away once again. Barney eventually leaned forward a bit and squeezed André's knee. "Listen to me, little man. There is absolutely _nothing_ about you, not your skin color or your hair color or your eyes, that your mom and I don't love about you. And I don't know if your mom and I will get married, honestly. I've never been with anyone this long. But I can tell you that I love your mom for more reasons than just the color of her skin. The same goes for you and your brother.

"So just because our skin color is different doesn't mean we can't love each other, okay? You're still my main man regardless. And next time someone says anything like that, you can say that at least you _chose_ me and I chose you guys; those kids parents' are just stuck with them. How's that work?"

André grinned and sniffled once again, putting his feet on the floor. "Okay, Uncle Barney."

Barney gently pinched the little boy's kneecap until he giggled and squirmed away. "You want to pick out what we're having for dinner tonight?"

"Macaroni and cheese." André stood as if he were about to dash into the kitchen but Barney grabbed his elbow and pulled the boy onto his lap, poking at his sides and various spots along his neck to tickle him.

" _Just_ macaroni and cheese? You don't want Lucky's dog food in it? I bet Lucky would share."

André squealed and swatted at Barney's hand, trying to curl inward on himself so Barney had less surface area to tickle. "Let's have hamburgers," he called out in between bits of laughter.

"I think we can do that. Should I leave the dog food out?"

"Yes!" André's face grew hot from the exertion and his belly hitched from laughing so hard. Barney rolled forward until his knees were against the bed and then rolled André back on to it with a mock _rawr_ sound. Immediately the little boy hopped up and darted into the kitchen to dig around the cabinets for ingredients, the awful bus ride seemingly already forgotten.


	5. Water

If there was one good thing about living in the shithole apartment, it was that the bathtubs were yet to be updated and were thus enormous.

So Barney thanked whichever Roman or Greek God that was the God of Baths as Simone settled in between his legs. He could feel the hot water against his legs but below his stomach he could really only register the fact that something was touching his skin. Simone leaned back against his chest and gave herself a moment to relax and stir the water's surface with her fingers. Barney laid his head against the wall, his arms stretched across the rim of the tub. This was the first night in a long time they had a few minutes to themselves. Clint had both boys in the apartment down the hallway (or, as Barney heard earlier, in the hallway itself chasing Lucky), so he and Simone took the opportunity to take a bath that lasted more than three minutes.

When she settled her own head against his chest, Barney kissed her temple. Between the boys being wild enough to put a rock concert to shame and Clint not understanding just how loud he is, sometimes it was nice for the two to just sit back without saying anything. They would do so in bed but three minutes after hitting the pillow they were both out. 

She closed her eyes, dripping tiny drops of water on Barney's hairy forearm. A year ago she wiped thick rivers of Clint's blood from this same arm, blood that Barney pummeled out of Clint's face. Blood that poured so heavily into Clint's throat he stopped breathing long enough for his face to turn scarlet and he passed out, nearly choking to death if it weren't for his ex-wife. 

Simone knew Barney had the capability of being extremely violent. She had seen him do so. Eighteen months ago she watched him bust through the window in her living room and throw men from the fire escape to their deaths. But she also saw the way he looked at the boys and she could not find a trace of that violence in his look. One afternoon when he was exercising in the hallway with the forearm crutches André accidentally tripped against a crutch and Barney slammed into the floor, landing face-first and bruising much of his arm where the metal rods jabbed him. Barney was irritated, yes, and André felt so ashamed he avoided just about everyone for the afternoon, but Barney never once yelled or cursed at him or anything of that nature. She could see that he wanted to at times, but the most he ever did was raise the loudness of his voice somewhat. Barney never laid a finger on either of her babies outside of playtime that hurt them intentionally.

And he was the same way with her. They bickered sometimes, usually over Clint, but they never allowed themselves to yell around the boys. His entire temperament changed around them, his face was softer and he rarely scowled. But Simone knew that if he wanted to he could do serious damage if the occasion called for it.

The water barely shifted as they breathed deeply. Simone added some type of oil to the water as the tub filled so the bathroom had a kind of citrus scent that also seeped into their skin. He kissed her temple once again and then moved lower to her cheek near the corner of her eye. She inhaled deeply when Barney kissed behind her ear.

Simone leaned her head back at an angle so their lips could meet. The kiss was slow but not very deep, innocent compared to other nights where they rushed to get to the main event before the kids needed them or some emergency fucked up the night. No, tonight they could enjoy the feel of each other's skin.

He brought a cupped hand of water to her neck and poured it down her chest. Simone was already naturally warm but between the steam from the water and the water itself she was radiating heat. Barney dipped his hand into the water and poured it on her chest a few more times until she shifted so he would cup her breast instead. God, he loved her tits. She was beautiful, absolutely stunning, but Barney particularly enjoyed her breasts. Even after nursing two babies they remained sensitive and responded readily to his touch. 

Simone adjusted herself somewhat to give herself enough space to reach into the water for Barney's half-hard cock. He was improving in the response time that he needed to even get hard, and Simone was usually very patient, but sometimes his body just wouldn't react. If that happened tonight, oh well. Barney was learning to enjoy the foreplay and the feel of her skin underneath his fingers. 

He massaged her breast until she pushed his hand lower. Barney inched his finger down her stomach to the middle of her legs and brushed across her pussy. She moaned into his mouth and minutely gasped when his finger found her clit. 

"Barney," she muttered against his lips. " Oh God, Barney, please." He drew a groan from deep in her chest as he dipped his finger into her cunt and palmed her clit. Barney would love to toss her into the bed and bury his face in said cunt. It was something they rarely did, and Barney could usually make her come quickly, but there was only so long that Barney could support his lower torso before his back just couldn't handle the angle anymore. 

Her breathing hitched when she felt the familiar tightening in her arms and legs. "Barney, I'm close, oh..." He increased the speed of his hand as her fingers tightened around his hair. He hummed low in her ear so she could feel the vibration in his chest against her back. She lifted one leg out of the water and draped it across the edge of the tub so she could feel the warm water against her clit. Barney's hand continued exploring her chest as his other explored her cunt. Anytime she moaned the sound echoed against the walls and reverberated around the room, whenever she shifted the water sloshed around the tub and creeped up Barney's chest. Her breath quickened and the tension in her limbs grew tighter, Barney could feel her pussy tighten around his fingers until she groaned one final time and all the tension gave way. Simone relaxed against Barney's chest as she came, letting go of Barney's hair as it subsided.

"Mm, thank you, baby," she whispered once her breathing returned to normal. Barney idly stroked her hip as she came back down, resting his head against the back of hers. "Good thing your brother can't hear us down the hall."

Barney chuckled deep in his chest. "Yeah, but you forget the neighbors on either side of you. And besides, if he could hear you that'd be the most action he's gotten in ages."

"Oh, stop," she giggled, swatting at his forearm. "He's brought girls back to the apartment before."

"Yeah, and if he managed to fuck any of them I would've heard it. He has no idea how loud he's being half the time. Those nights that I just show up randomly? That's only because I could hear him jerking of-."

"Okay, enough, I don't need to know what your brother does up there in the loft."

"I mean, have you _seen_ the number of crusty socks he washes each week-"

Simone turned around and clamped her hand over Barney's mouth, splashing water over the side of the tub. Barney laughed against her hand, then kissed her palm as a truce. When he held up his hands as a sign of surrender, she turned around once again and rested against his chest. "Wasn't he married at one point?"

"Yeah, for about a minute. You've met her, she's the blonde that comes around every so often. You remember Bobbi?"

She searched through her memory for a moment before vaguely recalling Bobbi's face. "I think so. How long were they even married? I don't remember him being married when he moved in."

"They were getting divorced, that's why he moved here in the first place. And I think from the time they met to the time they separated it was barely even a year. Hell, they only knew each other for like a week when they got married."

Simone scrunched her eyebrows somewhat. "That's it?"

"That's it." Barney playfully nudged her. "Have you met my brother? He's a complete dumbass. She probably ain't that much smarter if she married him. She has some kind of fancy degree, I can't remember what though. And she doesn't put up with his bullshit, which is why I like her. I'm glad they stayed friends after all that happened, I didn't think they would."

"What do you mean?"

"She got pregnant, but obviously that didn't work out. He was a cute little guy, as far as babies go. Looked more like his mama."

Simone sat up again and turned to see Barney's face. "Oh, honey," she mumbled, her eyebrows furrowed. This was certainly not what she expected. Barney drummed his fingers against the edge of the tub and looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember details of the nephew he met for only a few minutes.

"They had about fifteen minutes with him, I think. He was a little fighter, too; he lasted longer than the docs thought he would. Clint will say he didn't get a chance to see him but he's full of shit, he held on to the little guy all night, he's just avoiding having to talk about it. I held him for a few minutes, right here." Barney tapped his chest to the left of his sternum. "Neither of them wanted to hold him while the doctors were removing all the tubes and shit, so I held on to him. I talked to him for a little bit, and pet him, even though he wasn't actually there. Told him he was a good boy and all. Hell, I think the blanket-square they wrapped him in weighed more than he did.

"So they stuck a little hat on him, wrapped him up in another little square, then gave him back to Bobbi for a while. When she held him I could tell he was going to look more like her. Clint laid down beside her for a long time and they just kinda shared holding him, at least until she fell asleep. Then Clint sat in the chair next to her and held on to him for hours. And I pet him a little again, just on his hat."

Barney swallowed hard and looked down at the spot on his chest again. "So, yeah, that was Nick." Simone placed her hand over the spot on his chest and laid her head against his sternum.

"I'm sorry that happened, baby," she whispered. Barney wasn't sure if she was talking to him or figuratively to his baby nephew. Neither was she.

"Yeah, so am I. They really wanted that kid. Clint kept everything bottled for like a week, then had some kinda meltdown, but by the next morning it was as if the little guy never existed." Barney shrugged his shoulders, thinking about the night he found Clint slumped against the cabinets in the kitchen clutching a bell pepper to his chest. He wept to the point he nearly became dehydrated but talked almost continuously, as if he were in the middle of some sort of manic episode. 

_What did I do, Barney? What did I do?_

_Does he know I love him?_

_Did I tell him enough while he was still here?_

And Barney just let him ramble until Clint ran out of tears and his voice became horse. He fell asleep on the couch a little while later, the pepper tucked into his elbow. Barney slept upright in the chair next to him in case Clint woke up and decided to do something stupid, but by morning Clint was too exhausted to do much of anything. Barney left a few days later and didn't see his brother for a few months, until he was homeless and Clint let him crash on the couch. He only meant to stay for a couple days, maybe a week, but after a gunshot to his gut and drowning Barney's stay became permanent. At least he upgraded to a futon.

Simone listened to Barney inhale and exhale for a few moments. Even after eighteen months he still had a massive scar that began at the top of his ribs and snaked down to his hip, and at times Simone ran her finger down the scar as she thought of the night on the roof. She was in her own unit when she heard the shot. As soon as the sound echoed through the alley outside her window she yanked Jeremiah out of the high chair, grabbed André's hand, and darted for her bedroom. They stayed huddled in a corner for a long time, well over an hour, until she saw blue and red flashing lights illuminate the alley and dozens of feet bounding up the stairs. A police officer rapped on the front door, but she left the boys in the corner just in case. When she looked through the peephole she called to the boys. She didn't know what happened to either of them for a few days.

At least when the incident at the dock happened she was somewhat informed, although she did not know many details. The woman who informed her (Jessica?) only gave her enough information to know that both Clint and Barney were hospitalized. Simone was going to actually go to the hospital, but when she called to find out the visiting hours a nurse told her that kids were not allowed in the room due to an infection in Barney's lungs. Luckily by New Years Eve the infection cleared and they could spend the last few minutes of the year together.

"Barney?" He grunted from the base of his gut, his eyes closed and head back against the edge of the tub. "How much of the dock story is true?"

Barney lifted his head once again and looked into her large brown eyes. "What do you mean?"

"The story you tell the boys about what happened at the docks. Obviously the wizards aren't true but you never told me the actual story."

"I thought Clint did."

Simone shook her head. "He always comes up with an excuse not to." Barney chuckled once again and idly massaged her hand.

"Well, we figured out where the two guys would be and followed them down to the steel factory by the river. I wasn't paying attention when the two came up behind me and whacked me on the side of the head, which knocked my ass the fuck out. When I woke up we were at one of the platforms and they were holding me up, but I wasn't all there yet. I will say, though, I was _very_ awake when they threw me into the river.

"All the clothes I was wearing to keep warm dragged me down and I couldn't kick my legs to stay above the surface. The water was so cold it made me, I dunno, gasp or something. Either way I got a lungful of Harlem water, and that pretty much did it. I just kinda...stopped. Clint took care of the two guys then swam over, dragged me back to the platform, and helped pull me out of the water. I guess my heart stopped; Clint had to thump my chest for a while to jumpstart me again. Whatever that's called--the Heimlich? No, the other one. He about broke my fucking ribs doing it. But that's what Bobbi told me later, I don't remember much between hitting the water and waking up in the hospital."

Simone listed to his heart beat as he told the story, listened as it beat quicker towards the end. She didn't know that his heart stopped completely and that Clint did chest compressions to save Barney, that was new information. But she was grateful to be able to listen to his heart beat now. Barney was still here. _Still punching,_ he would say instead of "still kicking."

They were silent for a while longer, until Barney shifted and noticed that the water cooled and their digits were starting to prune. Simone pulled the drain plug and stood upright for a few minutes to allow the water to drip down her body, but she also knew that Barney liked to stare at her figure. Of course Barney was perfectly fine with that. For him getting out of the bathtub was a bit of an ordeal so he was content to wait for the water to drain a bit before he tried getting out. Simone sloughed the water from her arms, then ran her hands down her chest and her hips. She then turned around and bent at her waist to dry off her legs, giving Barney a great view of her ass until she stepped out of the tub and walked out of the bathroom door, calling out behind her.

_Don't bother getting dressed._


	6. Island of Misfit Toys

The last time Barney Barton set foot on Coney Island for any reason other than to kill someone was almost fifteen years ago.

Well, last time he went to the Island he could also walk and since he was stuck in his wheelchair he technically had still not "set foot" on it yet. Relatively little about the island changed from what he could remember, the layout was still the same and the arch in the front still glared on, but Clint continuously pointed out differences. After leaving Carson's, Clint shacked up on Coney Island for a few years (two? three?) before SHIELD recruited him so he recognized a few of the individuals working behind booths and in shops. Many people believe that, like most carnivals or fairs, the Island is controlled by one central office. Instead it is mostly independent shows and rides that just happen to be practically on top of one another. 

Barney wanted to bring the boys primarily to get out of the apartment but also so he could tell them stories about his life growing up in a circus. André bounced along the boardwalk swinging Simone's hand while Jeremiah used Barney as a human stroller. He stood in between Barney's legs on the footrest and used Barney's knees as armrests. When they discovered that Jeremiah had enough balance and coordination to stand while Barney pushed the wheels, it almost instantly became Jeremiah's favorite way to travel and although Clint was currently pushing the chair, Jeremiah standing meant Barney had more space to move his torso. 

They didn't need to know that the last time Barney and Clint were here they tried to murder each other.

It was the night Clint's vision completely failed him after swelling in his occipital lobe blinded him. After their major showdown SHIELD captured Barney and used stem cells in Barney's bone marrow, in conjunction with Pym Particles, to restore Clint's sight. It was also the night Barney wore their dad's ring for the last time when Clint pointed out just how similar Barney was to their father.

He pushed those thoughts out of his mind. Tonight was going to be fun and relaxing for everyone involved and Barney was going to do whatever he could to make sure that happened. If the boys wanted to eat every fried or sticky food on the Island, Barney would see to it that they did so. Much to Simone's chagrin. 

After going through the main arch, they stepped off the path to get their bearings without blocking foot traffic. Due to the amount of noise that wreaked havoc on Clint's hearing aids, he left them at the apartment in their drawer underneath the coffee pot. _You want to hit the Cyclone first or wait until they eat so they'll puke it all back up?_

Barney wrinkled his nose at his little brother. _They aren't even old enough to ride it._

 _Like that ever stopped us_ , Clint grinned. Barney was going to say something, but Jeremiah's squeal stopped him.

"Circle! Mommy, look, circle go round!" Jeremiah pointed across the expanse of the crowd to the Wonder Wheel, a ferris wheel that was nearing its hundredth birthday and possibly the most iconic image of the Island. Clint helped run it on the nights he didn't perform, taking over for other carnies so they could eat or smoke during their break. Since Clint was once part of a rival show, his first few months at the Island was nothing but grunt work. 

"That's a ferris wheel, Little Man," Barney said and signed. Jeremiah decided that it would only be referred to as the "Whee" from that point forward. 

"Mama, can we play some games, please?" André leaned forward into Simone's arms and looked up at her with wide eyes. Simone pulled him tight against her waist and swung her hips as if she were dancing until André giggled. 

When he tried to pull away, still giggling, Simone held her little boy against her stomach and rubbed the back of his head. "Baby, you know those games are designed for you to lose-"

"We know how to beat them." Barney shrugged his shoulders and looked between Simone and Clint. "Hell, we worked them for a couple summers; between Clint and I the whole house would be cleared by the end of the night." And for the most part Barney wasn't lying, they knew how each game worked, and more importantly, they knew how each game was rigged. Some of the games required dead-on accuracy, others only required that the person hit the target with as much strength as possible. When Barney thought about it, these games were designed for the Barton Brothers.

Simone looked down at her son's near-bald head and nodded. "Okay, fine. But let's wait for the lines to die down a bit, alright, baby? We haven't eaten yet, let's do that first." If they ate first the boys would also work off the excess energy by the end of the night and, hopefully, would sleep on the way home. Jeremiah still enjoyed curling up in Barney's lap and tucking his face in Barney's shoulder (Simone is under the impression that since Jeremiah also falls asleep in car rides the wheelchair feels similar) and André was now old enough to express that he felt tired rather than become cranky and whine. Clint could carry him if need be. 

Carnival, fair, and circus food is quite possibly the least healthy food type in existence, which Barney was perfectly fine with. In the circus they survived on greasy food and sandwiches pieced together from multiple food trucks, occasionally swiping different candies when no one was looking. Candy apples covered in peanuts were Barney's favorite, and Clint probably ate a giant pretzel every day for three years at least. When SHIELD finally nabbed Clint he was severely malnourished by that point. Mister Carson tried to make sure the boys ate healthy, or at least occasionally eat something more nutritious than fried carnival food, but food was expensive and carnival food was bought in bulk. Apples were about the only fruit they ate and they went through a jar of peanut butter about every week between the two of them. Once Barney and Clint hit a growth spurt Carson gave up trying to keep track of their food intake. 

André spun in a circle to see all his available food truck options. Most of the smaller trucks carried average carnival food but there were also a number of ethnic and specialty trucks along the boardwalk and unlike most kids André was not a picky eater. Getting Jeremiah to eat anything beyond Cheerios and macaroni made him whine and cry as if green beans were a torture device. 

Clint pointed at a burger truck at about the same time as Simone while André pointed in the opposite direction towards a Latino taco vendor. They split up, Clint walking to get a burger with his arm slung over Simone's shoulders leaving Barney and the boys to slowly make their way to the other side of the expanse. Without Clint's height to alert people of his presence, a few people looking down at cellphones walked right into Barney's footrest. He hoped the bruises on their shins hurt like hell. 

As they stood in line André amused himself by trying to stand on the rim of Barney's right wheel. Jeremiah was still enraptured by the bright lights and movement of the roller coasters and the Wonder Wheel, which occupied his attention until Barney asked what he wanted to eat. "What kind of taco do you want, Little Man? Beef or chicken?"

Jeremiah managed to drag his attention back to the task at hand long enough to give an answer. "Chit-en."

"Easy enough. Dré, what about you?"

"I want a fajita," André said as he pointed at the bottom of the menu. "Can I have queso, Uncle Barney?"

Barney gently poked André in the stomach. "You sure you can eat all that? How about I order some and you can share with me?"

"Uncle Baba share! Good boy Uncle Baba!" Jeremiah leaned back against the edge of Barney's seat and clapped his hands, imitating the way Simone praised and clapped for Jeremiah whenever he shared his toys. "Baba share Miah food?"

"Sure, bud," Barney said, patting Jeremiah's belly. "We can just put it all on the table and share everything, how about that?" André regarded him as if that was the strangest concept he'd ever heard, eliciting a shrug from Barney. "It's how we did it when I lived in the circus. We would sit in a group and everybody eats from the same thing. Usually it was just a big tray with different things on it."

André's face went from skepticism to something like disgust. "Why would you do that, Uncle Barney?"

"It was just the rules. Nobody could take more than their share if it was all out in the open." Barney nudged himself a few inches as the line moved forward. "Some people tried to steal more, though. Uncle Clint was really good at it, but he usually gave what he stole to a dog or something. Uncle Clint hasn't changed much in fifteen years, has he?"

The person in front of them left the line with her food and Barney rolled up the last foot or so. He didn't think to calculate just how tall the counter actually was; when the man working the stand looked up from the cash register he looked to the person behind Barney and spoke directly to her. He couldn't see Barney at all.

The woman behind Barney looked at the vendor for a moment, then down at Barney, then back up. She pointed to Barney and took a step back so Barney could roll backwards somewhat and hold his hand up. The vendor stretched himself over the counter as far as he could, pulling on the edge to see where the woman pointed. "Oh, I'm sorry, _hermano._ What can I get for you?"

Barney called out the order as best he could, struggling to be heard over the noise. He repeated the order twice. 

"Okay, that'll be $16.50, _hermano._ You want me to put it all in a bag or something?" Barney nodded and leaned at an awkward angle to reach his wallet in his back pocket. He pulled out a single $20 bill and rolled forward to hand the money to the vendor, but his reach was not long enough for the counter. Barney stretched and wriggled but eventually sat back in defeat for about ten seconds.

"Here, Miah, hang on to this." Barney handed the bill to the little boy and picked him up by his armpits, standing him up on Barney's knees. From there he kept one hand on the boy's ribcage, another underneath his bottom, and lifted until Jeremiah was close enough to give the vendor the money. Jeremiah giggled and squealed as Barney hoisted him upwards.

Barney lowered his arms while their food was collected and organized into a few bags and raised Jeremiah once again when the vendor set the bags on the counter. "Okay, Little Man, just hold onto the bags. You got 'em? Good boy, now down we go. Give André the bags...alright, one more time-"

He was about to raise the little boy one more time before the vendor waved at him. "No, no, the change I put in the bag at the bottom, you see when you take everything out." Barney tilted each of the bags to see the bottoms and saw an outline of coins and dollar bills. He waved at the man and spun around to find an empty table in the center of the expanse. Instead he saw the back of Clint's blond head and Simone leaning to the side to wave at Barney and the boys. When André caught sight of his mom he darted forward, the white bags of the food bouncing back and forth. 

Clint turned around just as André collided into him with his shoulder. Barney could tell André meant to be funny; they often did something similar at the apartment when Clint got down on one knee in a faux football player stance. This time, since Clint wasn't expecting anyone to crash into him he jumped hard enough to drop whatever he was eating. Barney caught up to them and grabbed Clint's arm just as his overactive startle-response kicked in, preventing Clint from doing serious damage to the little boy. André was lucky Barney stopped him or Clint could have easily snapped the kid's neck without even realizing he did so until after the fact.

Between being startled and Barney nearly diving between the two of them, whatever Clint was eating when he jumped took a wrong turn in his throat. His chest hitched as he tried to cough it up again, gagging into the crook of his elbow. Barney let go of his arm and clapped Clint's back a few times until Clint waved him away. "I'm okay, I'm okay."

"You sure? Because, seriously after all we've been through, choking to death would be the dumbest way for you to die," Barney spoke and signed simultaneously. "Actually, you know what? If you were to choke to death you'd deserve it at that point."

"Thanks, Bub, it's good to know you'd help me out in that situation." _Asshole._

 _I taught you everything you know._ "Okay, Dré, let's have those bags down here."

They ate slowly, albeit unintentionally slowly. Every few minutes one of the boys pointed to an attraction they were yet to notice. Since Jeremiah did not have his booster seat he stood on the bench connected to the table, standing on occasion to look at the spinning wheel of a chance game or people climbing up rope ladders. Each time he did so Simone tickled his shoulder to bring his attention back to the food before it became cold.

Clint was predominantly silent throughout. Even though he left his hearing aids at home he now had to filter out a lot of visual noise that was less difficult but still a challenge at times, especially with the blinking lights and flashy colors. When he and Barney lived in the circus, since his hands were so small he often had to be the one to reach into tight spaces to change the lightbulbs. A number of burns on his forearm were from the heat of the bulbs.

After André ate what he could between his own fajita and Barney's beef nachos, and Jeremiah utterly decimated the guts of what was once a taco, the boys became antsy to either run around the expanse of the beach or play a game or two. Before Simone wiped the queso from the boys' faces, Barney nudged Clint and asked for the cellphone to take a picture. "Smile, guys," he said as the lens of the phone focused. André smiled as wide as his toothless grin would let him, and Jeremiah barely held his focus long enough to take the picture. Barney caught him just before the little boy turned around once again.

The fact that Barney was sitting at a table with his family taking photos, of all things, absolutely amazed him. Barney never believed he deserved the experience, he always figured that stability was just something he was not destined to receive in his lifetime. He had moments of stability, maybe a few weeks or a few months where he at least had a roof over his head, but for the most part Barney's life was nothing but a richter scale. If his life wasn't chaotic then he was merely biding his time.

Simone wiped her hands down with a napkin and reached over to scrub congealed queso from Jeremiah's face. He protested and squirmed until she nabbed him and set him on her lap. "Okay, what do you want to play first?"

André's face lit up as bright as any of the flashing bulbs. He spun in a circle to see his options once again, stopping when he saw a balloon-pop game. Last year he received a plastic bow and Nerf-like arrow set from "Santa" that he loved to play with, and even though the game used a slingshot he figured the principles would be the same. They made their way through the throng of people in a small line, André holding Simone and Clint's hands and Jeremiah standing on Barney's footrest. 

At the booth, Barney looked at the small darts and showed the tips to André. "Alright, bud, look at this. The tips are blunt for a reason, they're not sharp at all. And the balloons are under-inflated so they're really hard to pop. Just put everything you have into it and pull back as hard as you can. Want me to help you?"

"I want to try it once by myself," André declined, shaking his head. He gave the attendant his two dollars and picked up the slingshot, lining it up at a group of balloons and pulling back on the stretchy rubber drawstring until his thin arms wobbled with the exertion. He let go of the handle and watched as the dart flew across the open space and...bounced. The dart was completely useless. 

The disappointment in André's face made Barney feel equally as disappointed. Before the little boy could set the slingshot back onto the counter Barney set Jeremiah on the ground and fished another two dollars out of his wallet, handing it to the attendant. "André, come here," Barney said as he tugged on André's elbow and aligned himself behind the little boy. "Remember, bud, don't let something as small as that get the better of you. Pretend it's clobberin' time."

Barney held the base of the slingshot and completely wrapped André's hand in his own, tugging the draw handle as far back as the rubber could stretch. The attendant almost made Barney stop before the rubber snapped completely, but just as the man moved they let go of the handle and watched as the dart obliterated an orange balloon and bury itself into the wooden board at the back of the stall. André smiled bigger than he did for the picture and jumped in place as the attendant handed him a green plush dinosaur. Simone rubbed circles into Barney's back and bent low to kiss him. "Thank you, baby."

André hugged his new dinosaur close for a moment then played with its felt teeth. He was completely oblivious to the adults looking around in circles for Clint and Jeremiah, registering the commotion only when Simone began to panic.

\---/\\---

Two hours later they sat in the main security office providing as many details as possible about Jeremiah's appearance to a police officer. Simone held André tight on her lap while Barney told the officer the last place they saw him, eventually just starting at their arrival and giving as much as he could remember up until now. The last place they saw Jeremiah was at the balloon pop game when Barney set the little boy down from his footrest.

"That's the last time we saw him." Barney kept his hand on Simone's knee to comfort her but leaned forward to hand the officer Clint's cellphone. He completely forgot about the phone until Simone tried to text Clint and Barney's back pocket vibrated. She barely spoke in the past fifteen minutes and tried her hardest to keep André from seeing the tears in her eyes.

The police officer flipped a page in his notebook and scribbled down a description of Jeremiah's clothing. "And how is he related to you?"

Barney hesitated. What could he even say? _I'm his mom's boyfriend._ That didn't sound right, Barney was well over 30 so not really a boy anymore. 

"He's my step-son."

The officer nodded and scribbled something in his notebook, leaning into the walkie-talkie on his shoulder. "All units in the area, I have a 10-57 on Coney Island; African-American male, three years old, approximately three and half feet in height, brown eyes, black hair, wearing a red shirt with a racecar on the front. First name starts with Juliett, middle name starts with Alpha." He let go of his radio and closed his notebook. "We'll find your boy, ma'am. As busy as this place is kids get separated from their parents all the time but rarely for more than a few hours. There's an officer stationed at each entrance so he wouldn't be able to leave without one of us knowing. Just sit tight, let us know if you need anything."

Simone nodded and rested her forehead against André's shoulder. This was the first time she had been separated from her baby for so long unwillingly and she had no idea what to do with herself. Before Barney, Jeremiah was always a bit of a wanderer but the furthest he ever managed was to get to the end of the aisle at a store without André chasing after him and scolding his little brother for running off. In the past year, Jeremiah was essentially attached to Barney anywhere they went so Simone hardly worried about something like this happening at all.

André yawned as the clock ticked away, hugging his dinosaur and shifting so he could nap against Simone's shoulder. The sun set long ago, and about every thirty minutes the officer stopped into the office to check on them or bring something to drink. When the stalls began their process of shutting down and cleaning up for the night, the officer stopped in with a large bag of popcorn for André to pick at, though he only managed a few bites before feeling too sleepy. 

Much of the park officially closed twenty minutes ago, and Barney considered going out to help search but was advised not to do so in case Jeremiah turned up. Simone deposited André on a bench to sleep uninterrupted, his dinosaur tucked under his head to act as a makeshift pillow. The office was extremely small, about the size of a large closet it seemed, so Barney was unable to roll far in any given direction. Instead he parked himself next to Simone's seat and held her hand once again. He could tell she was thinking the absolute worst in her mind.

He was about to tug her onto his lap so she could just go ahead and cry everything out when the police officer tore open the door with a large smile on his face. Simone sat up instantaneously and wrung her hands. "Ma'am, I believe we found him."

"Where is he? Is he okay?"

"He looks to be absolutely fine; the officer who found him called in some paramedics just to be sure but she'll be here any moment with your boy."

Simone nearly tackled the officer in her happiness. Luckily Barney wasn't the jealous type, and instead he asked for more details. "Where was he?"

"The officer observed him leaving a tent with a man and heading for the main entrance to the park, so she called another officer and followed him before they were able to exit. She was able to get your son while the other officer took the man into custody." 

Outside the office door Barney could hear a babbling, high pitched voice that grew louder as it approached until he could make out some of the words. "...ride the car with Uncle Quit?"

As soon as the door opened and Simone recognized Jeremiah, she tugged him from the officer's grasp and squeezed him as tight as she could without hurting him. "My baby! Oh, my baby, I was so worried about you," she practically chanted. Barney pat the back of Jeremiah's leg and shook the officer's hands in turn. The female officer gave him a stuffed giraffe toy that Jeremiah was carrying when she found him. 

"Where's the guy who took him?"

Both officers gestured to an unseen cop car outside the office, the only indication that it even existed flashing blue and red through the small window. "We haven't been able to get anything out of him at all, so we're gonna take him down the station and put him in holding until he gives us something."

Barney nodded as if he cared what happened to the guy. He pat Jeremiah's leg once again and then Simone's waist. "Hey, baby, I'm gonna hit the bathroom so you guys can wrap everything up." Simone barely nodded, her eyes closed as she held her baby boy tightly to her chest.

Instead of heading for the bathrooms, however, Barney made a beeline for the back of the cop car waiting outside. He could see an outline of someone against the glass but could not make out any features. As angry as Barney was in that moment, he honestly didn't give a fuck what the guy looked like. He was about to look a lot different after Barney tore his face off.

Barney parked himself next to the back door and yanked it open, reaching into the back seat and grabbing the bicep of the person and dragging him out onto the ground. "Get the fuck out of that car, right now," he shouted as his chair tipped and he landed on the guy's back. He instantly curled up into as tight of a ball as he could managed with his arms behind his back until Barney flipped him over, an elbow in his chest. The commotion could be heard inside the office, prompting both officers to dart outside to see what was going on.

Barney raised his fist as though he were raising a large hammer, ready to bring it down as hard as he could and completely annihilate this guy's face. But he stopped.

"...Clint?"

Clint blinked a few times when the expected blow never came, but instead of punching him Barney merely shook his shoulders and shoved him back into the dirt. The larger male officer kneeled between them in case Barney snapped once again as the female officer set his chair upright then dragged Clint backward somewhat. Simone walked out of the office holding Jeremiah and looked at Clint to be sure.

"Uncle Quit ride the car! Jeremiah ride the car with Uncle Quit," the little boy babbled, touching his forehead with his index finger. He was still yet to sign Clint's namesign properly (an H on the forehead) but by now everyone understood who he meant. Simone touched Clint's bicep to get his attention then pat some of the dirt from his back. The female officer put herself between Clint and Simone and told her to step back.

"Ma'am, ma'am, I need to ask you to stand over there for me-"

"Wait, that's my brother," Barney called when he managed to haul himself back into his chair.

The male officer looked between Barney and Clint for a moment. "You _know_ him?"

Barney nodded and swiped at his pant leg to brush the dirt away. "Yeah, that asshole is my little brother. He's deaf, probably why you couldn't get him to tell you anything." _I should let them lock you up, you know,_ he signed at Clint without voicing. Clint turned at an angle so Barney could see him flip him off.

Neither of the officers moved to uncuff Clint until Simone stepped in once again. "He came here with us, you can let him go. He can't sign without his hands." After another beat the female officer fished her key from her pocket and unlocked Clint's wrists, which he began to massage instantly. As many times as Clint had been arrested he still found handcuffs uncomfortable and annoying.

 _Where the fuck were you guys?_ Barney didn't bother to hide how angry he felt.

Clint went through the story starting at the balloon pop game. _When you set him down Jeremiah signed 'animal' and started walking away, so I picked him up and took him to see some of the animals at the petting zoo. Then when we came back we couldn't find you guys at all, but I figured we would run into you eventually, so we just kept walking around. He wanted to see what was inside the main tent and I ran into someone I knew when I worked here so Miah played around the ring for a bit while he and I talked. When he had something to do in the backyard we left and were going to wait for you guys at the front arch but then the police officers stopped us and took Miah from me._

When Clint stopped the male officer asked Barney what he said, and Barney gave a condensed version. The female officer tapped Clint's elbow. "Did you hear me call you at all?" Clint only shook his head in confusion and looked to Barney. Lipreading in the dark was pretty much impossible.

_Did you hear her tell you to stop?_

"No," Clint grunted and shook his head at the same time, unsure if he was clear or not. To someone who didn't know Clint's speech, it sounded as if he made a random noise.

The officers let go of Clint and Barney's shoulders, turning to Simone. "Ma'am, do you want us to take him downtown?" She shook her head, hitching Jeremiah further up her hip.

"No, please don't, it's all just a big misunderstanding," she said, then kissed Jeremiah's temple. The little boy held his new giraffe up so she would kiss the toy as well. "I just want to get my babies home now, if that's okay."

Both officers nodded and stepped back from them. While the male officer cancelled the APB, the female officer dug through her patrol car for paperwork to fill out. As Simone signed the bottom of the sheet, the officer asked if she wanted a ride back to Bedstuy since their neighborhood was on her usual patrol. Simone nodded and turned into the office to wake André and get the boys situated in the backseat of the patrol car. The male officer called for a second patrol car to take Clint and Barney home as well.

After Barney hauled himself into the backseat, Simone leaned in before he could close the door. "See you at home," she whispered against his lips, kissing him and closing the door. Clint climbed in on the other side after she waved at him and went back to the other car. As soon as the other door closed, Barney popped him in the shoulder as hard as he could.

_I fucking hate you, you know that?_

_Love you too, Bubby._


	7. The Persistence of Memory

In hindsight, this was a very bad idea.

He didn't necessarily have anything against meeting her family, but Barney Barton was not exactly the type you bring home to meet your father. Or, in this case, bring your father to meet Barney. This was Jeremiah's big day, he officially turned three a few weeks ago, and this was the first time Simone's family could come out to celebrate after her father was hospitalized for some time due to a blood clot he acquired at his nursing home. Now that the old man was up and moving somewhat, they went ahead with Jeremiah's birthday party as planned.

Jeremiah had difficulty understanding that even though he already turned three, the fact that his birthday party was a few weeks later did not mean that he turned four. As many times as Simone or Barney tried to explain it to him, by the time Saturday rolled around they'd given up trying to explain the difference. All the little boy knew is that today there was a party on the rooftop and people were bringing him toys. Those were the important parts.

Simone dressed him in a small red polo that Barney protested merely because by the end of the day the shirt, the nicest in the little boy's dresser drawer, would be an absolute mess. But in the end, Barney had to admit that the red polo coupled with the overall shorts was insanely cute. Regardless, he tucked an old t-shirt into the little backpack he recently ordered that was attached to the back of his wheelchair. It'd been a few weeks since he had been on the rooftop so Barney was ready to be out in the sun for a while and relax by the old grill.

The neighbors were all invited, although Tito was unable to stay for very long. He dropped off a small bucket of toy cars in the morning just in case he would miss the events upstairs, but he did help bring a few tables up to the roof. Aimee and her girlfriend helped Simone set up the random assortment of decorations they were able to collectively scrounge together while Deke and Clint lugged food up and down the staircase. Barney would be the last one up the steps due to the embarrassing fact that his scheduled bathroom stop was coming up soon and he did not want to get up to the roof only to need someone to lug him back down again.

Barney fretted all morning trying to figure out what her family would deem presentable. The birthday boy was dressed up just by virtue of the attention being predominantly on him, but Barney also wanted to make an impression with her family. In the end he settled on a plain white button-down and khaki pants. Easy enough. He had a pair of shorts he could wear, but the muscles in his legs atrophied considerably after he was shot and he did not feel like ignoring peoples' stares all day.

He also had no idea what to make of her family in general. Simone had three siblings that she occasionally mentioned (two brothers and a sister, or was it two sisters and a brother?) and the only thing Barney knew about her mom was that she primarily spoke Spanish. Anytime Barney could hear Simone zooming through a conversation in Spanish he always figured she was talking to her mom. He knew that her dad was in a war, either Vietnam or Korea, maybe both, and that his overall health had been steadily declining over the past few years. Simone rarely talked about him except when there was some type of emergency.

Barney kept both of the boys with him to be out of the way while the rest of the adults finished what was left of the party's to-do list. This morning André decided to be a holy terror (since the day was not about him, Simone guessed) and was confined to cleaning up their room before he could even think about going upstairs while Jeremiah flipped through a book on Barney's lap. It was an old book, one of André's favorites when he was a toddler, but Jeremiah liked to flip through the book of animals and sign what he could remember.

"What's this one?" Barney pointed to the animal and baby version in the middle of the page.

"Al-gator," the little boy said, clapping his hands in front of him. He could do most of the signs he knew, at least the ones that were important for a toddler to know, but sometimes he would do a handshape wrong or the movement backwards. Instead of moving his hand backward for the sign for tiger, Jeremiah would flick his hand forward and out. He tried, though, and he could recognize many more signs than he could actually produce.

Barney flipped the page to a farm scene and pointed at a group of chickens. "What are these?"

"That's mommy, Uncle Baba, Andway, Jeremiah birds," the little boy said without skipping a beat. With each name he pointed to a different chicken.

"Oh yeah? Where's Uncle Clint?"

Jeremiah looked at the group of chickens once again and pointed at a different colored chicken. "That bird Uncle Quit?"

"Sure, Little Man." Barney closed the book and spun around the living room. "You ready to get your shoes on? Go find them and Baba will tie them for you. André, you done with that room yet?"

André slapped the toy chest shut. "Almost, Uncle Barney. Make 'Miah leave so I can finish." Barney was about to call for the little boy himself but André's voice beat him to it. "No, Miah, stop it! I'm trying to clean!"

Barney rolled into the room right as André yanked a toy from Jeremiah's hands prompting the toddler to stomp both his feet in frustration, almost as if he were running in place. As soon as he stopped his face contorted into dramatic toddler-angst and tears immediately sprang to his eyes. Barney shouted over Jeremiah's whines. "Hey! What's going on, what's wrong?"

"He keeps taking out all the toys I put back, I wish he would just go away." The pout on André's face made his bottom lip stick out. Barney rolled further into the room, pointing to the little stool sitting in the corner that belonged to a coloring desk. Recently it became the only time-out spot that seemed to stick.

"Go sit down, right now," Barney said through gritted teeth. When André sat on the stool, tears forming in his own eyes, Barney rolled closed to him and bent at his waist. "Look at me, bud, I know he can get on your nerves sometimes. And I'm sure you get on his nerves sometimes. But I don't want to ever hear you say that about your little brother again, you got it? He's the only one you have, and you have no idea what it feels like to say something like that and then it actually happens. So sit here until I tell you to move. Jeremiah, shoes."

By the time Jeremiah actually found his shoes, he'd completely forgotten why he was upset in the first place. Barney still needed practice with this shoe thing; little kids' feet were tiny and he could never figure out how to get Jeremiah's shoe on his foot without it being a massive struggle. He helped the little boy onto his bed and began loosening the shoe, ignoring André's attempts to get his attention and the harder André whined the harder Barney ignored him. By the time Barney started on the second shoe, André's whining turned into occasional whimpers.

Jeremiah looked at his shoes and bounced his feet. "Uncle Baba, Jeremiah's try?"

"How about I show you how to do it this time, okay, Little Man? It's almost time to go upstairs, anyway. Okay, watch: you first make a rabbit ear, then another. See that little hole? The rabbit comes out of the hole, goes around, then just pull the ears tight. All set?" Jeremiah slid himself off the bed and ran into the living room to open the front door. Barney then turned to André and his absolutely pitiful expression.

"Can I get up now, Uncle Barney?"

"Yeah, you can get up. But what do I never want to hear you say again?"

"That I want 'Remiah to go away."

Barney nodded and held his arms out for the little boy to walk into so Barney could hug him. "Look, bud, I know it's hard to be a big brother. But one day he's going to look up to you, he probably already does actually and just doesn't know it, and you're going to want him to be there on the days when you look down on yourself. Brothers are in it all the way, right? Right. Now, you ready to head upstairs?" André wiped his face of the tear tracks and walked into the living room to walk with Jeremiah up the steps to the roof, holding his hand the entire way up.

\---/\\---

In hindsight, this was a _very_ bad idea.

Simone was setting out the last of the food when her phone rang with the news that her older brother, Antonio, was downstairs with their father. Before she hung up the phone she could hear their mother chattering away and giving directions to her sisters, although she could not hear what she was fussing over.

Getting her father up the steps was not the easiest feat. About midway through the journey her father, Lamont, turned himself around somehow and tried to walk back down. In the last few years the old man's coherence often wavered and even though he had moments of clarity, as time passed he spent more and more time in a state of confusion. As they walked up the steps Simone had to remind him why he was there in the first place and which grandson was having his birthday party today.

He could recognize his own children and grandchildren, although with some of the grandkids he mixed up their names or accidentally called them by his children's names. Recently he confused strangers and acquaintances with people he grew up with or knew long ago, many of whom were long dead. At times Lamont would say something funny about his surroundings or how he perceived his situations, but sometimes his confusion scared him to the point he lashed out and yelled or cursed at his nurses. Today, however, he seemed on top of things.

When they finally stepped through the door to the roof, Simone's family got Lamont situated before properly greeting each other. Her mother, Rosa, immediately remarked on Simone's figure as she did every reunion or get together ( _Estás comiendo, hija? Eres tan flaca, necesitas a comer mas._ ) while her younger sister, Alicia, hugged as best she could while cradling a newborn baby girl. Vanesa, the oldest girl, fussed over Lamont until Simone pulled her away for a hug. Behind the adults a pack of children trudged up the steps, each belonging to one of Simone's siblings and ranging from Jeremiah's age to a moody pre-teen trying to ignore the world with headphones.

Lamont and Rosa appeared to hate each other, at least on the surface. To anyone who didn't know any better, their comments back and forth seemed rather hurtful and certainly not indicative of a loving relationship. That was hardly true at all. They met in Colombia while Lamont was stationed there before being deployed to Vietnam and even though Rosa knew very little English at the time, they managed to communicate through a dictionary Lamont bought at a market. When he was deployed and left for Vietnam he wrote to her frequently, as often as he could given the circumstances. Through their letters back and forth they slowly fell in love and upon his return to the United States, Lamont immediately booked a flight to Colombia and found her once again. The second time around they knew enough of a mixture of Spanish and English to hold deeper conversations, and eventually Lamont asked her to marry him. Both were equally sarcastic to the point of biting, and outsiders who did not understand their sarcasm often thought they were two steps away from divorce.

But Rosa loved her husband, gave him four children, and never once thought of leaving when his mental state began to decline. Putting Lamont in the nursing home devastated her, but she eventually admitted that she could not take care of him on her own anymore. She calls him every day at least once, and he usually calls her just before bed to tell her that he loves her unless he forgets or loses track of time.

Simone favored her dad in appearance, at least in her frame. Lamont was always a somewhat thin man with a sharp jawline, whereas Rosa gave Simone her high forehead and small ears. André looked every bit like his grandfather when he was a baby, while Jeremiah and his chubby cheeks came from Rosa. When André ran up to Lamont, the resemblance was all too apparent.

"Which one are you," Lamont said as he poked at André's chest. André giggled and swung his grandfather's hand.

"André, grampa."

Lamont studied André's face for a moment until Simone came up behind André. "He's named after you, dad."

"That's right, I knew that," Lamont waved her off and used his free hand to rub André's scalp. "You ever gonna grow any hair on your head, boy? You look like an 8-ball."

"Like you can talk," Rosa said as she received the new baby from Vanesa. "You have fewer hair than him."

"Woman, I didn't ask for your input!" Lamont beamed at his wife who he could tell was grinning behind the baby's shoulder as she patted her back. André and the new baby, Rose, were special among the grandkids; André came from Lamont's first name (Lamont being his middle) and Rosie a derivative of Rosa. André's middle name, DaShawn, came from the boys' father although the boys were yet to make the connection.

Alicia finished setting the food she brought on the table and rejoined the adults with with Jeremiah on her hip. "Here's the birthday boy!" Jeremiah clapped his hands as everyone cooed over him, clearly enjoying the attention. Rosa leaned in for a quick kiss on his cheek and so he could see the baby, although he only stared at her as if she were an alien. "Speaking of boys," Vanesa continued. "Where's this boy of yours, Mona?"

If Simone had a lighter skin tone, her blush would be more visible. "He'll be up in a minute, it takes him a while to get ready."

"Why? He ain't gotta dress fancy for us," chided Antonio. "I thought that brother over there was him." Antonio gestured in Deke's direction, who was busy setting up the old charcoal grill.

"Nope. Just relax, he'll be up here in a few minutes."

As if on cue, the roof's main door opened and Kate stepped out to hold it open. Simone could hear the thunk...thunk.. indicative of Clint pulling Barney up the staircase backward, one step at a time. They really needed to figure out a way to put a lift on those steps, it'd certainly save Clint's back from having to lug Barney's fat ass up the steps.

When Jeremiah noticed that Barney finally made it to the roof, he wriggled out of Vanesa's arms and kicked until he was on the ground. "Uncle Baba!" The little boy toddled across the roof and stood in front of Barney's footrest with his arms outstretched in the universal 'hold me' toddler sign until Barney picked him up and situated him on the footrest. Simone followed him, running her hand through Barney's bangs and bending down to kiss him. The rest of her family stared, wide-eyed and silent, until Antonio spoke up.

"That's him?"

Barney smiled and waved once in their direction, rolling forward to shake hands with her family. "Yup, I'm him. 'Barney' works just fine also." When he noticed the baby in Rosa's arms, he tickled the baby girl's back. "Hey there, beautiful."

Vanesa and Alicia were unsure what to say. Simone talked about Barney frequently when they chatted on the phone, but she failed to mention the fact that Barney could not walk. By now Simone was so used to Barney rolling around that she hardly thought about it until someone brought it up or there was an issue with accessibility. Clint mumbled something as he shook hands with everyone as well, wandering off to find the cooler of beer he brought up an hour ago. Today he wore his large purple hearing aids, and luckily the wind on the roof was not unbearable.

Instead of saying anything directly to Barney, Vanesa tugged on Jeremiah's elbow. "Come on down from there, honey, that doesn't look safe."

"No, it's okay, he does this all the time," Barney shot back almost immediately. Jeremiah wavered momentarily until he tipped forward and dropped to the ground. He caught himself, and truthfully he did not fall far, but his cries started as soon as he popped his head up and registered that he fell.

Both Alicia and Vanesa darted forward to pick Jeremiah up and comfort him. Alicia managed to get him upright and in her arms before Jeremiah stretched the other way with his arms grasping towards Barney. Baba, Baba, the little boy wailed, elongating almost every syllable. Barney rolled forward and snatched Jeremiah back, hugging him to his chest and rocking as best he could.

"Ouch, Little Man, I bet that hurt," he cooed as Jeremiah's crying continued. "Shh, I know, buddy, I know it stings. Let's see your hands." Barney had to practically pry Jeremiah's little fists open, wiping away some of the stray pebbles that stuck to his palm. "There, see? It's okay, Baba's got you."

So much for keeping my shirt clean, thought Barney as Jeremiah's tears left a giant wet spot on his shoulder. Eventually his cries turned into whimpers and he flailed and kicked whenever someone tried to remove him from Barney's lap. Clint watched the commotion from across the roof, waving to grab Barney's attention.

_He okay?_

_Yeah, he's fine. Just a spill. Give him about two minutes and he won't even remember it._

Simone's family watched the exchange as if watching a tennis match. Antonio pointed his thumb at Clint. "What's wrong with him?"

The thump that landed on Antonio's shoulder came from Simone. "Clint's deaf, you jerk. He's Barney's younger brother and there's nothing wrong with him."

"Can he talk or does he only do the hand-wavy thing?" Antonio wriggled his hands in the air as if pretending to sign. Barney had the choice of being either righteously furious or play the comment off as a joke, and in the interest of keeping the peace he went for the latter.

"Yeah, he'll talk if he's not being lazy. Except he's usually being lazy so you might not get much out of him." Barney reclined back in his chair and shifted Jeremiah around to a more comfortable position. Simone's sister's smiled awkwardly while Antonio nodded as if he approved of something.

Throughout everything that happened, from Barney finally joining the party to the exchange with Clint, Lamont regarded Barney with something bordering on suspicion. If not suspicion, then certainly confusion. When Barney rolled over to officially meet him and shake his hand, Lamont looked around the roof with a disheartened expression.

_"Did everybody make it back to Da Nang?"_

Barney dropped his hand in his lap and looked back toward Simone. "Uhh..."

"Which battalion you from, brother? How long you been here."

_Oh, no._

Simone came up behind Barney and put her hands on his shoulders. "Dad, we're not in Da Nang, we're in New York. Your family is here with you, it's your grandson's birthday." Lamont appeared to grow slightly more panicked.

"Did everyone make it back alright? How many casualties? When am I getting discharged? Call the head nurse for me, she would have my discharge papers. I need to get back in the field. Who's the commanding officer here?"

He was in Viet Nam, at least in his own mind. Lamont spent a few weeks in a hospital in Da Nang getting patched up from shrapnel he took along the back of his knees, buttocks, and lower back from a grenade he threw into a building. When he was able to keep his war stories straight, Lamont talked about the hospital frequently because the hospital was a semi-permanent place for Rosa to send letters. He tried to stand up from his chair, but Alicia kept him from getting too far. "Relax, dad, just sit back and relax. Do you want anything?"

Lamont looked at Alicia with only vague recognition. "Coke would be nice if ya got it, thank you, ma'am. Did I get any letters today?"

Simone dropped her head into her hand and rubbed her forehead. This was such a bad idea. "You know what? How about we go ahead and eat. Deke, is the grill ready?"

Deke gave her a thumbs up from his station at the grill and went to retrieve the box of hamburger patties from the cooler. Clint wandered back over to Barney and stuffed a beer bottle into the mesh pocket on the side of his backpack, ready to drink whenever Jeremiah got down to play. Neither of them had ever drank in front of the boys before, almost as an unspoken rule, although they did not hide the bottles or bury them in the back of the fridge whenever the boys were in Clint's apartment. They knew not to drink them but Barney avoided drinking around the kids. Too many bad memories of Harold's drunken rants and backhanded smacks to his face. Too many bad memories of Harold beating the side of Clint's skull until his ears bled.

_What happened? Clint looked back and forth between Barney and Lamont._

_Old man is losing it. Thinks he's back in Viet Nam._

_That's rough, poor guy. Let me know if you need help with him. You holding up alright?_

_No, dumbass, I'm sitting._

Clint shoved Barney's chair by the handle and grinned, heading back to the grill to help Deke with the food. He refused to get rid of this grill; despite all the awful events that happened around it, there were an equal number of good things, if not more, that the grill also saw. One night while Clint was sitting alone on the roof he dug out his pocket knife and scratched "In memory of Grills" on the side. He originally left out the letter O in 'memory' until Barney pointed it out and Clint squeezed the letter in.

As Simone uncovered the various dishes on the food table, Rosa followed behind rocking a sleeping Rosie. "Mona, how is he supposed to provide for you?"

"Mom! For the love of God," Simone sighed, stopping mid-stir of a bowl of potato salad to look up at the blue sky. "And for your information, he takes care of us very well."

"Are you pregnant again? Is that why you go with him? You know you can tell me anything, mija."

Simone abandoned the bowl of potato salad and began setting paper plates out with a brick on the top plate to keep them from flying away. "No, mom, I'm not pregnant."

"Can he even give you babies? Why would you be with a man that can't give you babies?"

 _This isn't happening, I'm having an aneurysm, that has to be it,_ Simone thought to herself. Instead of answering directly, Simone turned around and called everybody to the food table for lunch.

Clint stood off to the side to help Deke pass out hamburgers and hotdogs as needed. While waiting for the first person in line he felt a tug on his elbow.

"Oscar? Oh my God, Oscar, how the hell you been?"

Since no one was attending to Lamont, the old man took the opportunity to get up and roam a bit. Clint turned to look at him, then of to the side to see if anyone noticed and could help. Everyone was focused on the food.

"Uhh...fine, just fine," Clint muttered. That was generic enough. "How have you been?"

"I'm makin' it. Christ, Oscar, I thought we lost you at Khe San." Lamont kept his hand on Clint's shoulder and smiled as if Christmas came early. "When did you change your ear things? I thought they could only make them in that ugly ass white-boy color they gave you, I didn't know they could make them purple like that."

The look on Clint's face was absolutely clueless. Luckily, Antonio turned around to ask for a burger and darted over as soon as he saw Lamont next to the grill. "Dad, what's going on, what do you need?"

"I'm catching up with Oscar, that's what. I ain't seen him in a long time."

Antonio eyed Clint, who shrugged his shoulders. "Well why don't we go back to your table so you can eat, and then you can catch up with Oscar?"

Clint nodded and pat Lamont's shoulder. "Right, I'll help feed the troops and then I'll be over there. Five minutes?" Lamont nodded and turned back around, mumbling to himself as he walked back to his seat. Antonio's cheeks puffed out as he let go of a huge breath of air.

"He must think you're the guy who got his ears fucked up from a grenade. Dad's talked about him before. I'm sorry about that, man."

"Hey, no, it's fine. At least he isn't calling me Iron Fist," Clint shrugged. Recently Clint worked really hard to over enunciate just like his speech therapist said to do. "I'll sit with him, it's no big deal."

With Lamont seated once again Antonio went back to the food table to gather food for Alicia, who sat off to the side nursing the baby. Her husband planned on going to the party but was called into work that morning and she was left with their two other kids to wrangle. Vanesa's four were old enough to be left to their own devices with occasional check ins, and Antonio hadn't seen his daughter in three years this point. Simone was still pregnant with Jeremiah the last time she saw her niece.

Barney was having difficulty getting his own food while carting Jeremiah, still miffed from his fall, around the table. Simone knew the kids' portion sizes better than he did, but with one hand occupied with the plate and the other trying to push one wheel while while keeping Jeremiah up on his lap he frequently swung himself into the table. Eventually he set the plate down and tried to pry Jeremiah from his neck. "Hey, Little Man, Baba needs his lap."

"No, Baba hold baby Miah."

"It's not time for 'Baby Miah,' it's time to eat. You want to sit on Baba's lap while we eat?" The little boy nodded against Barney's neck. "Go pick us out a spot, then." Eventually Jeremiah uncurled himself and plopped himself down on the ground, running to an empty spot at a picnic table and holding the edge. Whenever he felt bad, Jeremiah liked to be wrapped in his favorite blanket and held like a baby. Simone thought he was getting too big to keep doing so, but Barney liked holding him that way. With his lap empty Barney had room to both move around and use his lap as a table for the time being.

When he collected everything he wanted, he made his way to where Jeremiah stood and parked himself at the head of the picnic table. Jeremiah held his arms up once again and held them out until Barney got both of their plates situated on the table. "Alright, Little Man, time to eat."

Simone dropped into the seat next to them while the rest of her family made plates for the kids. She massaged her temples slowly, silently praying that her family would leave Barney alone. Maybe she was asking for too much.

Vanesa set her plate as well as Rosa's across from Simone. The food was an assortment of stereotypical American cook-out food and equally stereotypical Colombian dishes. Barney new very little Spanish, maybe a few greetings, but he didn't want to insult Simone's mother by trying to pronounce anything and butchering it horribly. After he bit into a crusty bread similar to a pancake, Barney nudged Simone. "Baby, why don't you cook this more often?"

"You do not cook for him, mija?" Rosa set herself next to Simone and pulled her plate across the table.

"Yes, mom, I cook for him. He usually has dinner made by the time I get home, anyway."

Rosa's face registered alarm. "He cook for you?"

Barney nodded. "Yes, ma'am, I cook for her and the boys. Although I've never made anything like this. What's this called? It's amazing."

" _Arepas_. You home before Mona? Where do you work?"

"My brother and I own the building."

" _El sordo_ ," Rosa said in near disbelief, as if Barney just insulted her in some way.

Simone finished cutting Jeremiah's hamburger into finger-food sized bites and sighed. "Yes, mama, the deaf one."

Vanesa picked at a pile of rice and leaned over for Jeremiah to have a bite. "How do you two even 'do it'?"

"Nesa!"

"What? I'm just asking."

"We do, let's just go with that," Barney grinned. If they wanted to be crude, he could be equally as crude if not more so.

Antonio finished setting up Lamont with Clint so they could tell 'war stories,' or at least Lamont could, then set himself up at the other end of Barney's table. "Ya'll done embarrassing Mona yet?"

"They're working on it."

"What even happened to you, anyway? Car wreck or something?"

Barney swallowed and shook his head, then reclined back somewhat and lifted the bottom of his shirt to show the base of his scar. "Nah, got shot."

"Uncle Baba has big boo-boo," Jeremiah said factually through a mouthful of hamburger meat. Jeremiah had seen his scar before, usually by accident. Each time Jeremiah would say poor Uncle Baba and pat his own belly.

"Damn, son," Antonio chirped. "What kinda shit you been into?"

"He was protecting us. Can we not talk about this right now?" Simone wrung her hands together and sighed once again, her shoulders low.

"I just wanna know what homeboy over there did to get one to the gut."

Barney waved his hand and shook his head. "We can talk about it later, if you want. Just...I don't like talking about it in front of the kids. I told them one version of the story that's easier for them to hear and I don't want to confuse them." Antonio nodded again and began munching on his hamburger while Barney turned back to Simone. "You gonna eat, baby?"

Almost as if she'd forgotten to do so, Simone stood quickly and walked back to the food table now void of people. She looked over to the other tables just to check that everyone was doing alright; Alicia was busy tucking her breast back into her shirt while balancing the baby in her other arm, the nieces and nephews were chattering about various topics that Simone had no idea about, and Lamont and Clint were laughing to themselves in the corner. Deke was cleaning up the grill, a burger in one hand and the scraper in the other, while Aimee and her girlfriend lounged on a bench next to the main door to the roof. Apart from her family embarrassing the absolute hell out of her, everything seemed to be going alright.

\---/\\---

Three hours later Simone stuffed wrapping paper into a garbage bag and wiped down some of the picnic tables. Jeremiah crashed harder than a heroine junkie about an hour ago after a cake and ice cream overdose that made him crankier as the day went on. After some whining and more rocking from mommy, he eventually closed his eyes for a nap. Simone stretched him across Clint and Lamont's laps, both of whom were engrossed in one of Lamont's stories.

Everyone began to relax as soon as Jeremiah slammed his own little mini-cake into his face in an attempt to eat it. As messy as he was at lunch, Simone eventually unbuttoned his overall straps and removed the polo so he would not stain it with thick blue icing. Barney tried to be courteous with his 'told you so' face as she tugged the shirt from the little boy's torso. Last time Barney checked he still had little flakes of icing on his face.

As Jeremiah ripped through the wrapping on each of his presents while sitting on Lamont's lap, Rosa helped Barney keep the mess to manageable levels. He zoomed around the group faster than she could clamber over everyone, collecting wrapping paper and stuffing cards into his backpack so they were not missing by the end of the day. Seeing his ability to move so easily, Rosa became less nervous around him. Simone's siblings continued to ask him questions that they knew would embarrass her, but Barney only laughed and kissed her cheek.

Neighbors from the building filtered in and out, as was the norm, and stopped by to chat or eat for a few minutes. As the sun set and more kids whined about going home or being bored, Simone's family began packing up. Alicia became visibly flustered trying to corral her own children while holding a baby and a diaper bag and a car seat until Barney rolled up and offered to holder her while Alicia got the rest of the kids ready to go. After a moment of hesitation, she laid the baby in Barney's arm.

"Hi there, princess," he cooed at her. She was only about eight weeks old so old enough to be wide-awake and responsive but not old enough to flip the fuck out whenever someone new held her. "Your mama's a little busy at the moment so you can hang out with me. That sound good to you?" The baby eyed him with large brown eyes and squirmed somewhat, trying to force limbs she had little control over to do what she wanted. Barney chattered away at her until she maneuvered her face into something bordering on a grin.

Clint walked with Lamont the entire way down the steps, holding on to the old man's shoulder to stabilize him. He had trouble understanding a lot of the Vietnamese city names, but many of the places Lamont described were places Clint had been at one point or another. So he had a vague notion of some of the cities and streets that peppered Lamont's stories. Clint laughed with Lamont and threw in occasional vague comments that were void of any real substance to keep the old man talking, and whenever Lamont asked him if he'd seen another soldier Clint shrugged or said it had been a long time.

When they made it down the steps and stopped outside to wait for the cab, Simone and her family mulling around them, Lamont's face fell and he became somewhat quiet. "Listen, Oscar, there's somethin' I gotta tell you."

Clint nodded and turned to look at Lamont directly.

"I never woulda thrown that grenade if I knew you was in there. It was my fault I messed up your ears, and I wanted to tell you that but every time I saw you in Da Nang I lost my nerve. I'm so sorry, Oscar."

They regarded each other for a long moment until Clint put his hands on both of Lamont's shoulders. "There's no way you could've known I was in there, man, I forgive you. Actually I don't blame you, not a single bit. I've never blamed you. You were doing what you had to do, alright? None of it was your fault at all."

Lamont nodded with his eyes closed, which were wet when he opened them once again. There was no way to know what kind of peace Clint brought him at that moment, but he sincerely hoped that even if the old man forgot this exact exchange that his peaceful feeling remained. When the taxi pulled up next to their curbed, Clint hugged him and helped him make his way into the backseat. Antonio practically squeezed Clint's lungs shut when he hugged him in thanks.

A second taxi pulled up, then a taxi van, and Alicia and Vanessa spent about ten minutes trying to get all of their kids situated. Simone hugged them in turn, promising to call and visit more often. When the cabs departed, Clint bound up the fire escape to lug Barney back down the steps.

In Simone's apartment, Barney tucked Jeremiah under his favorite blanket on his bed to continue his nap while André got his clothes ready for bath time. Recently André wanted to bathe on his own, which Simone thought was fine, except Jeremiah often opened the door thinking it was his bath time as well. Barney rolled out into the living room to find Simone stretched out across the couch with her arm laid across her face.

"Hey, you," Barney whispered against her forehead. Simone groaned and peeked at him from underneath her arm.

"Is it over? Please tell me it's over."

"Yeah," he laughed. "It's over, you survived. Hey, look at me." When she uncovered her face Barney kissed her deeply, his hand on her cheek. "Also, how the hell did you get icing behind your ear?"


	8. Heavy Lifting

Unlike his younger brother, Barney actually liked going to physical therapy.

He didn't much like the pain of stretching out his unused tendons or saving his calf muscles from near-death. Truthfully he just liked the camaraderie involved with being around guys in the same predicament. There were other reasons as well; the boys or Simone were not allowed inside so he had an hour or two to himself without a tiny person hanging on him, and Clint usually went to the ballistics range while Barney did his exercises so he had a little while to himself for the most part. It was a good feeling, one that he valued more than he realized.

Since he technically wasn't under SHIELD, Barney became somewhat of the guinea pig for the interns. It was the only way Coulson could sneak him in; since the interns were not actually able to bill insurance just yet they could get their hours in and Barney would not have to be on the payroll. Some interns were better than others, but the intern working with him today Barney particularly liked.

Reece Andrews, unlike most of the fresh-faced interns that SHIELD dropped Barney with, was closer to Barney's age and had actually been with SHIELD for quite some time although family problems kept him from finishing his therapy hours. His first therapy case was working with Clint about a year ago. 

For today's appointment, Barney was going to walk the entire perimeter of the therapy gym and back with the braces and forearm crutches. The most he had done in terms of distance at this point was walking up and down the hallway at the apartment a few times, but after some mental math Barney figured it was similar enough.

Each appointment started out with some simple stretching to get the tendons in his legs and knees pliable. Since Barney sat most of the day he often had to stretch his legs and massage them to keep them from getting too sore when he stood at his full height. Now that he could lift his legs somewhat without having to tug on his pant leg he was able to complete the stretches much more often. Andrews helped him wiggle his way down the floor to help him stretch out.

"Okay, push against my hand."

Barney tugged on the back of his knee then let go and put as much force against Andrews' hand as his leg would give. "How's your family doing, doc?"

Andrews dropped Barney's right foot and tapped his left. "Still not a doctor, you know. And they're fine. My oldest is going into high school next year so of course she thinks that makes her an adult. You been using the bands at home?" 

Exercises involving the stretchy rubber bands were some of Barney's least favorites only because he often felt off-balance. He still did them anyway. "Yeah, doc, I use them. Fifteen minutes off, five minutes on, just like you prescribed."

"Are you _sure_ you're related to Hawkeye? You guys never had a blood test or anything like that?" Andrews set Barney's foot down on the ground and helped him into a sitting position. Barney scrunched his eyebrows and shook his head.

"As far as I know we're fully related, why?"

"Because," Andrews grinned over his clipboard as he checked and scribbled notes. "Compared to your brother you're a damn saint. Trying to get him to do any kind of therapy at all is a step above torture, apparently. Ready to get strapped in?"

Barney held his hand up for Andrews to take it and pull him upward far enough that he could drop his ass back in the seat of his wheelchair. "You always make it sound so kinky, doc."

"I ask my wife the same thing every night. Alright, legs out."

Getting into the set of leg braces always took some time, but Barney was getting faster at putting them together. The first few times he wore the braces Barney got the rods backward and spent fifteen minutes trying to figure it out until another PT patient told him what he was doing wrong. Now he could put them together in less than five minutes after he marked which rod belonged to which side. First he set his shoes on the bottom plate and strapped them down with velcro, then wrapped the cuffs around his calves just below his kneecap. The last piece wrapped around his waist, and Barney always felt somewhat self-conscious wrapping it around his back. With the top piece buckled comfortably, Barney scoot himself to the edge of his seat and grabbed one of the double bars to pull himself up. When he was balanced on his feet, Andrews handed him each rod to finish putting the brace together. 

"How's that feel?" 

Barney nodded and shuffled along the length of the bar to clear it, then ran his arms through the cuffs of his forearm crutches. When he first wore the brace and tried taking a few steps with the crutches Clint said he looked like a gorilla fucked a giraffe and made some weird mutant offspring with long skinny arms that walked on its knuckles. For that, Barney threw one of the crutches at Clint's stomach and completely winded him. 

One last piece of equipment was necessary before Barney could actually start walking. Andrew stepped in front of him and wrapped a wide cotton belt around Barney's waist, tugging on the belt until it was tight enough that if Barney became off balance Andrews could grab him quickly. To Barney, the gait belt felt like a leash.

"Alright, man, take as much time as you need, okay? Don't start running or anything on me." Barney grinned at Andrews and looked down at his feet. Sometimes staring at his feet helped for some reason, almost as if he mentally chastised his legs for not working as they should. Taking the first few steps were always immensely difficult until he got into some kind of rhythm.

His right leg twitched somewhat then tentatively inched forward. The first time he tried to walk upright at the gym he did so without the braces and his legs twitched and jumped so sporadically the therapist was concerned Barney was having some type of seizure or a stroke. The braces helped stabilize his legs and kept them closer to the center of his body, which in turn helped him balance while walking. It was a very slow process, and he could only move a few feet per minute, but Barney worked himself until his legs either gave out on him or someone forced him to sit down. While he worked, Barney usually continued chatting with Andrews or with some of the SHIELD agents exercising around him. The other agents knew who Barney was and how he was related to SHIELD (that is, hardly at all) but Barney never let them antagonize him for it. After the first few weeks the agents rarely thought about the fact that Barney was not an agent himself. Instead they talked about wheelchair basketball, beer, and sex like every other group of men on he planet. It was almost has if Barney joined some morbid club that laughed at life-threatening injuries and lost limbs.

As Barney shuffled along, Andrews kept his hand wrapped around the belt at the base of Barney's back. "You're doing good, Barney. Right crutch first, there you go. So, how's your old lady doing? And her kids?"

Barney was too busy working on getting his knee to bend to answer right away. Once he had his foot firmly on the ground he stopped to catch his breath. "They're fine, we went to see a movie the other night."

"With the kids or just you and her?"

"Just us two," Barney said as he wiped away some of the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. "Clint watched the boys for us. Usually we go after their bedtime so all he has to do is make sure they don't wake up and fall out of a window or something. Sometimes the little one will get up and still be half asleep so he runs into shit."

Andrews barked out a laugh at the thought, remembering when his own children would walk around the house bleary-eyed looking for mommy or daddy at odd hours of the night. "They're about the same age difference as you and Agent Barton, right?"

"I think so, they're about four years apart. Jeremiah turned three last month, André's birthday is coming up in September." Barney's legs were getting tired from the effort of making them move but he refused to stop until he made it to the end of the gym and back. "Last week André asked about talking to girls. I thought they weren't supposed to do that until they were at least in the double-digits."

"You'd be surprised. My kid knew how babies are made long before I was ready to talk to her about it. You and your lady thought about them?" Andrews tapped Barney's shoulder to remind him to move the crutch before taking the next step.

Barney shook his head, biting his lip until his foot lifted for the next step. "Nah, I'd make a terrible father. Plus I don't think I can have any, honestly. The whole 'psychogenic' thing and lack of muscle." Andrews nodded, fully aware what Barney meant. Men with spinal cord injuries often had difficulty obtaining an erection and even more difficulty with ejaculation, at least without stimulation or medication. "I do call them 'my boys,' though, it's hard to think of them as anything but that now. And can you imagine me with a kid of my own? Nope, I think the Barton gene should just die off at this point."

By now Barney was at the wall opposite from where he started. When he reached out to steady himself and lean against the wall, Andrews touched his shoulder. "Doing okay? Need some water or anything?" Barney nodded and closed his eyes while Andrews scurried off and returned a few moments later with a small bottle of water.

Andrews leaned against the wall along with him, using the short interlude to scribble more notes on his clipboard. "What would you say to trying out the PT pool next week? It'd be easier on your legs." Immediately Barney shook his head.

"Nope, not doing it." Barney hadn't been submerged in water in over a year and had no plans of breaking that streak.

"You take baths and showers, right? Same thing."

"That's in a tub."

The mock exasperation on Andrews' face was apparent as he shook his head and tossed his clipboard to the side. "Alright then, Rain Man, we can try it later. Ready to walk back? I got other people after you, ya know."

Gently, Barney tapped the rubber stopper of his crutch against Andrews' leg as a playful kick. He was amazed at how all of his equipment slowly became an integral part of him, extensions of himself that he used in more ways than to just get from A to B. Most of the time he used his crutches to whack at Clint's knees whenever he loitered around the gym to annoy him. "Let's do it, doc."

"You know, between the twenty minutes ago in which I mentioned that I'm not a doctor and now, I still haven't obtained my doctorate so I'm still not a doctor." Andrews kept his hand on Barney's shoulder until he was able to stand at his full height once again, then tucked his hand into the gait belt. 

"Eh, you're close enough. Just a few more hours, right? Then you'll be certified and all that bullshit and they'll give me to some other new guy." While he was speaking, an agent rolled up alongside Barney and slowly inched backward as Barney kept walking. The agent was missing both legs just above his knee, the result of the Hellicarrier explosions that Clint caused while under Loki's mind-control. If the agent knew that Barney was related to Clint in some way, he did not show it.

The agent pointed his thumb behind him in the direction of Barney's empty chair. "Hey, brother, that one yours?" Barney nodded and continued working on getting his hip to cooperate. "You care if I take a spin in it? You're ridin' the Bugatti of chairs and I'm dyin' to try it out."

Trading wheelchairs for a few moments was not a new thing at the PT gym. The chairs were measured and thus specific to each user but that never stopped the agents from taking a lap in each others' chairs. Barney likened it to the wheelchair version of a hot rod car show. When he nodded again, the agent zoomed off and set his black matte framed chair next to Barney's burnt orange chair and hopped himself over the armrest. He turned left and right to get a feel of the responsiveness and rolled back over to Barney. "Man, this rides like a freaking dream. When do I get mine?"

Andrews nudged Barney's food forward until he appeared more balanced. "When Tony Stark buys it for you."

The agent, Reynolds, waved off Andrews. "What'd this thing cost, five-grand or so? That's pocket change to that fucker. He could probably buy each one of us one and every agent for the next twenty years and it'd barely register on his bank account. You might have to fight me to get this back, dude." 

Barney stopped to catch his breath once again and leaned heavily on his crutches. "At this moment I wouldn't be able to catch you so now's your chance." Reynolds grinned at him and took off once again to make a lap around the gym's perimeter. Reynold's chair was much taller than Barney's and was missing the footrest platform in the front, but Reynolds had a few customizations that Barney was yet to try out. On the back of Reynolds' chair was a clear plastic table that set across the arm rests and Barney considered putting in an order for one but until Clint bought a computer he was shit out of luck. The backpack and the gloves were ordered somewhat by chance; another agent that frequented the gym mentioned putting in an order for the items and Barney paid the agent to double the order. Clint brought the bag back to the apartment a week later and helped Barney strap it to the back. 

The agent stopped by his own chair to transfer back over but Barney told him to keep rolling around until he made it over. More motivation to keep going. The agent rolled back over when Barney finally made it to the double bars and hopped back into his own chair, pushing Barney's toward him so Barney could sit back down. "Where you at, brother? L or T?"

"L3. Gunshot to the gut." Getting used to the lingo around the gym took some time, and the first few weeks Barney nearly drowned in the sea of acronyms that people used. After a while he began to piece some things together; guys with injuries involving the letter C were the ones who used a breathing tube to move their wheelchairs, while the ones with an S injury maybe walked a little slower or were a little weaker in the trunk. Based on what he saw around the gym, Barney was one of the luckier ones. 

By now Barney was exhausted and ready to go back to the apartment for a nap. Clint would be down in a few minutes to wait around while Barney showered, and because the showers at the gym were built for wheelchair-users Barney took his sweet time each week. It was his reward for working hard during the appointment. And it annoyed Clint.

Clint walked in just as Barney was heading back into the locker room to switch to a PVC shower chair. _Everything go alright today, Bub?_

_Yeah, I made it to the wall and back. When we get home you're taking the kids so I can sleep until next week._

Other agents milling about hardly bat an eye at the two of them signing. Between inter-dimensional gods, aliens, and super soldiers, signing was the least surprising thing about their day. _I texted Simone and told her that you would be up walking today; look at what she said._

Clint handed Barney the phone after finding the message in question. _Tell him J said: "Miah can show uncle Baba how to walk!"_ Barney chuckled at the message and handed the phone back, turning around once again for the locker room. Maybe he was just getting older and thus more sentimental, but Barney was a man hopelessly in love with his woman and her little boys. He loved that he loved her. He loved being woken up at God-awful hours of the morning by a little boy clutching a green dinosaur who needed a hug because of bad dreams. For every terrible nightmare Barney had as a kid, he promised himself that the boys would never have to feel that way and could always come to him after a bad dream.

He was the living embodiment of Newton's Third Law: for every harmful thing done to him as a kid, Barney did the equal and opposite action to the boys as an adult. Every slap Barney felt on the side of his head growing up was negated by a kiss to Jeremiah's temple in the morning when he wanted a 'squish'. Every time Barney went hungry at night at the circus was wiped away as André helped him cook dinner in the evenings. All the love that Barney was denied growing up he vowed to give to Simone as long as he was still breathing and his heart was still beating. Because Barney finally had someone that his heart could beat for.


	9. Just Keep Swimming

The only reason Barney agreed to this was because Clint would be with him.

He took a bath, or sat in the tub while the shower was running, but ths would be the first time he'd been in open water since he nearly drowned in the Harlem River. There was really no reason to be worried; the not-yet-a-doc would be there, other agents would be using the pool for training, there was even a lifeguard for some reason. If anything went wrong any one of the fifty or so agents scattered around could be there in seconds. Clint being there was mainly for support in case Barney flipped out.

They weren't even using the deep end or getting anywhere near it and since Barney and Clint were fairly tall, both above six feet, the water would only go chest-high. Andrews would be right next to him, Barney wouldn't have to get his hair wet or dunk his head under water if he didn't want to. 

He sat on a PVC shower chair in the locker room, wearing a pair of black trunks that he had to borrow from SHIELD and a plain white shirt to cover the scar on his stomach. When Barney and Clint swam as kids, they usually just stripped down to their boxers and dove into the lake. Neither had a swimsuit of any kid growing up, and once they started traveling with the circus they rarely swam anyway. Clint used the pool frequently by virtue of needing to log training hours so he finally had his own set of trunks, thirty-odd years later.

Barney looked at his thinning legs and rubbed his knee caps. This would be the first time the general public had seen his legs since the muscles began atrophying, and since his legs looked disproportionate to his much-stronger upper body Barney felt self-concious about it. Simone and the kids have seen his legs, and Clint and Kate, but they were used to the sight by now. Other people not so much; one afternoon on the train Barney raised his pant leg to see what caused the sharp pains in his calf and to massage the area. A little girl sitting across from him, younger than Andre but older than Jeremiah, asked her dad why his leg looked weird. 

Clint would be unable to wear his hearing aids in the water, so Barney waited as Clint tucked them away in his locker compartment. Like the apartment, his locker was a bit cluttered but SHIELD (Coulson, actually) made him clear it out every few months. On the outside was a name tag with BARTON scribbled in the alien language that was Clint's handwriting. He slammed the locker shut and threw a towel over his shoulder. _Ready, Bub?_ Barney took in a deep breath and nodded, the grip on his knees becoming tighter.

As soon as the aquatics area door opened the smell of chlorine bleach attacked them both. Barney absolutely hated the smell and wrinkled his nose against it and, paired with the anxiety of getting back into water, his stomach rolled. Andrews waved them both over to a bench at the far end of the pool near a ramp that led into the water, which Barney stared at as if the water could drag him from the side of the pool somehow. He didn't trust it and did not hide the fact. Clint looked like he wanted to cannonball into it and was ready to go, wriggling his fingers against the wheelchair handlebars in anticipation.

"Hey guys," Andrews said as he stood, dropping his clip board behind him. "Doing okay today?" He gave a thumbs-up to help Clint's understanding. Over the past year Andrews asked Barney how to sign a few basic words, and he could slog through the alphabet if given five minutes to go through each letter slowly, but he still relied on gestures primarily. Clint could keep up in most conversations if the topic were familiar, but doing so was exhausting and he usually lost focus midway through the conversation. 

Clint nodded and bopped his knuckles against Andrews'. As Barney and Andrews went over the game plan for the day Clint yanked his t-shirt over his head and tossed it on the bench next to the clipboard. He walked down the length of the pool to the deeper end and slipped in feet first, dunking himself under to force his body to acclimate to the cool water. He enjoyed swimming and the isolation it could bring at times. Once he resurfaced and noticed Andrews wheeling Barney to the top of the ramp he swam over to the shallow end, walking the last few feet. Barney's face was stoic and blanched, and Clint could tell the water was causing him great anxiety.

 _Come on down, Ariel,_ Clint grinned. Barney scoffed and gave him the finger. He took another deep breath and nodded, his face becoming more noticeably stressed as Andrews walked him towards the water. Andrews stopped when the water reached his calves and asked how Barney was feeling.

"I'm good, doc, keep going," Barney said through gritted teeth. The water began inching higher up his leg until Barney was waist-deep whereupon Clint held out his hand for Barney to grab. Count of three and Clint pulled him up and out of the chair to slowly walk the last two feet of the ramp. The further he went the lighter he felt, even though he held on to Clint's forearm as if his little brother were an anchor. 

Now completely in the pool and away from the ramp, but close enough for Barney's comfort, he struggled to keep his feet on the concrete floor of the pool. Barney didn't exactly float, but he did become off-balance easily, to which Clint would straighten him up a bit. Andrews waded over to them and sat low in the water like a head missing its torso. "Where's your anxiety at, Barney? Scale of one to ten."

Taking deep breaths as he assessed himself, Barney scratched at the stubble on his face. "Like an 8, 8.5 I think."

"That's alright, we're just going to take it easy today, maybe twenty minutes at the most. That work for you?"

Barney nodded and dunked his hand back into the water. He _knew_ his trepidation was unnecessary; the SHIELD therpy pool was certainly not the Harlem River. Barney could see his feet touching the floor of the pool although the image was distorted, Clint would not let go unless Barney wanted him to. Nothing cold go wrong but the anxiety was still there. It made zero sense to him. 

"Okay, Barney, go ahead and try pulling your right knee up. See if you can get it above the surface."

He wriggled his right leg around and had to admit his leg really did feel almost weightless. For about a minute Barney struggled with his leg doing whatever it wanted until he regained control and inched it back toward the surface. The last few inches he struggled with until Andrews stopped him. "Try straightening your leg out. Pretend I'm Agent Barton and try to kick me."

Clint snorted at the comment and splashed an armful of water at Andrews' face. "I'm never cooperating with you again."

"You never did in the first place." Andrews turned his attention back to Barney. "That's it, take your time. I'm gonna stretch your leg out the rest of the way, alright? Hang on." The feeling of someone else manipulating his leg while under water made Barney queasy even though Andrews raised Barney's foot only an inch or two higher. He held Barney's leg for about thirty seconds then let it sink back to the floor. "Very good, now let's have the left, same move."

And off they went. About every five minutes or so Andrews stopped and asked about his anxiety levels once again, and even though the number only went from an 8 to a 7 that was still progress. Barney never let go of Clint's forearm or bicep but Clint noticed his grip loosened considerably as the session went on. They did more leg lifts and kicks, he swirled his legs in circles or out to the side, and continued slowly inching around the shallow end until he was square in the middle between the two walls. 

_You move slow like its like a kung-fu movie,_ Clint signed, throwing droplets of water in various directions. _Or like that Matrix movie._

_You're a fucking nerd,_ Barney threw back. After a moment he nodded back at Andrews. "Hey doc, I think I'm ready to get out now." 

"Sure, that's fine. Go ahead and make your way back to the ramp and I'll get the chair set up. You're doing great, man."

They may have cheated the last few feet with Clint somewhat gliding Barney but by that point Barney was exhausted. As soon as they got home he planned on crashing on the futon for a bit. This morning when he mentioned he was going to try the pool Jeremiah's head popped up as if he were part of a Whack-a-Mole game. "Uncle Baba go simmin?" When Barney confirmed that was the day's activity the little boy stood on the footrest as if they were getting ready to go somewhere. "Jeremiah's try simmin?" It broke Barney's heart telling Jeremiah that he couldn't swim with Uncle Baba today despite the giant fit that ensued afterward, so Barney was already a little exasperated by the time they left the apartment. 

Back at the base of the ramp, Barney had some trouble getting his ass to cooperate and plant itself into the seat of the shower chair. Since he was water-logged from the waist down he also weighed a little more so it took both Clint and Andrews to pull him back up the ramp and onto the level floor. 

"Wasn't so bad, was it?" Andrews tossed them both a towel and began drying himself. Barney shook his head while he dried his legs and arms. "Want to try again next week? Same thing, easy stuff." 

After a moment Barney barely nodded. "Okay, doc."

"Still not a doctor, ya know."

"Yeah, but then 'what's up, doc' doesn't work, then. Does it?"

Andrews shook his head and laughed. "No, I guess not. But I need to get dried off for my next appointment, guys, I'll see you next week."

Neither Barney nor Clint said much as they head back toward the locker room to get dressed. Maybe if he got over this water phobia he could go swimming with the boys somewhere. Well, maybe not swim. Stand around awkwardly, maybe. He coud do that. 

On the way back to the apartment, Barney wondered what Simone and the kids were up to. Jeremiah was probably down for a nap, and some days Andre napped as well but if not he was probably just playing with Legos or something. Simone could be doing any number of things around the apartment, Barney overheard her say something about the laundry so maybe that's what she was up to. Despite the fit Jeremiah threw, Barney just wanted to get home and see his boys _His_ boys.


End file.
